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THE 



COMEDIES 



OF 



TERENCE, 

AND 

THE FABLES OF PH^DEUS. 

LITEEALLY TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH PROSE, 

WITH NOTES, 

By HENEY THOMAS EILEY, B.A. 

LATE SCHOLAR OF CLAEE HALL ; CAilBKIDGE. 
TO Tv'HICH IS ADDED 

A 3IE1EICAL TEAXSLAIIOX OF PHJEDB^, 

By CHRISTOPHER SMART, A.M. 



LONDON : 
HENRY G. BOHN. YORK STREET, COVENT Gi^DEN. 

3IDCCCLIIL 






PEINTED BY HAEEISON AND SONS, 

LONDON GAZETTE OFFICE, ST. MARTIN *S LANS; 

AND 

OBCHAED STREET, WESTMINSTER. 



\ 



y 



PREFACE. 



In this Version of the Plays of Terence the Text 
of Volbehr, 1846, has been followed, with the few 
exceptions mentioned in the Notes. 

The Translator has endeavoured to convey faithfully 
the meaning of the author, and although not rigorously 
literal, he has, he trusts, avoided such wide departures 
from the text, as are found in the versions of Echard, 
Cooke, Patrick, and Gordon. 

In the Translation of Phaedrus, the Critical Edition 
by Orellius, 1831, has been used, and in the iEsopian 
Fables, the text of the Parisian Edition of Gail, 1826. 
The Notes will, it is believed, be found to embody the 
little that is known of the contemporary history of 
the Author. 

H. T. K. 



CONTENTS, 



COMEDIES OF TERENCE. 



Andria; or the Fair Andrian . 

EUNUCHUS; OR THE EUNUCH .... 

Heautontimorumenos ; or the Self-tormentor 
Adelphi; or the Brothers .... 
Hecyra; the Mother-in-law 
Phormio; or the Scheming Parasite 



page 

1 

63 

, 132 

197 

. 254 

301 



THE FABLES OF PHiEDKUS. 



Book I. 

Prologue 

Fable I. The Wolf and the Lamb 

II. The Frogs asking for a King 

III. The vain Jackdaw and the Peacock .... 

IV. The Dog carrying some Meat across a 
V. The Cow, the She-Goat, the Sheep, and 

VI. The Frogs' complaint against the Sun 

VII. The Fox and the Tragic Mask 

VIII. The Wolf and the Crane 

IX. The Sparrow and the Hare .... 

X. The Wolf, the Fox, and the Ape 

XI. The Ass and the Lion hunting 

XII. The Stag at the Stream 

XIII. The Fox and the Raven 

XIV. The Cobbler turned Physician 
XV. The Ass and the Old Shepherd 

XVI. The Stag, the Sheep, and the Wolf ... 

XVII. The Sheep, the Dog. and the Wolf ..., 



Prose. 


Verse. 


.... 365 


473 


.... 365 


473 


.... 366 


474 


.... 367 


475 


River 368 


476 


the Lion 368 


476 


.... 369 


476 


.... 369 


477 


.... 370 


477 


.... 370 


478 


-,, 371 


478 


.... 371 


478 


.... 372 


479 


.... 372 


480 


.... 373 


480 


.... 373 


481 


.... 374 


481 


.... 374 


482 



CONTEXTS. 



XVITI. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 

XXII. 

XXIII. 

XXIV. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 

XXVIII. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXI. 



Fable I. 
II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 



Fable I. 

II. 

HI. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 
XIV. 



The Woman in Labour 

The Bitch and her Whelps 

The hungry Dogs 

The aged Lion, the Wild Boar, the Bull, and 
the Ass .... 

The Man and the Weasel 

The Faithful Dog 

The Frog and the Ox 

The Dog and the Crocodile .... 

The Fox and the Stork 

The Dog, the Treasure, and the Vulture 

The Fox and the Eagle 

The Ass deriding the Boar 

The Frogs frightened at the Battle of the Bulls 

The Kite and the Pigeons 

Book II. 

Prologue 

The Lion, the Robber, and the Traveller 

Two Women of different Ages beloved by the 

Middle-aged Man 

The Man and the Dog 

The Eagle, the Cat, and the Sow 

Caesar to the Chamberlain 

The Eagle, the Crow, and the Tortoise 

The Mules and Robbers ... 

The Stag and the Oxen 

Epilogue 

Book III. 

Prologue, to Eutychus 

The Old Woman and the Cask 

The Panther and Shepherd 
Esop and the Farmer.... 
The Butcher and the Ape 
Esop and the Insolent Man .... 

The Fly and the Mule 

The Dog and the Wolf. 

The Brother and Sister 
Socrates to his Friends 
The Poet on Believing and not Believing 

The Cock and the Pearl 

The Bees and the Drones, the Wasp sitting as 

judge 

Esop at play .... 

The Dog to the Lamb 



Prose. 


Verse 


375 


— 


375 


482 


376 


483 


376 


483 


376 


483 


377 


484 


378 


484 


r> f m 

o// 


485 


378 


485 


379 


486 


380 


486 


380 


— 


380 


487 


381 


487 


382 


488 


383 


488 


383 


489 


384 


489 


384 


490 


385 


491 


386 


492 


387 


492 


387 


493 


388 


494 


390 


497 


393 


498 


394 


498 


395 


— 


395 


499 


395 


499 


396 


499 


397 


500 


398 


501 


398 


502 


399 


502 


401 


504 


402 


505 


402 


505 


403 


506 



VI 



CONTENTS. 



XV. The Grasshopper and the Owl 

XVI. The Trees under the Protection of the Gods .... 

XVII. The Peacock to Juno 

XVIII. Esop's Answer to the Inquisitive Man 

Epilogue 

Book IV. 

Prologue 

Fable I. The Ass and the Priests of Cybele 

II. The Weasel and the Mice 

III. The Fox and the Grapes 

IV. The Horse and the Wild Boar 

V. Esop interpreting a Will 

VI. The Battle of the Mice and the Weasels 

VII. The Poet's Defence against the Censurers of his 

Fables 

VIII. The Viper and the File 

IX. The Fox and the Goat 

X. Of the Vices of Men 

XI. A Thief pillaging the Altar of Jupiter 

XII. Hercules and Plutus 

XIII. The Lion reigning 

XIV. Prometheus 

XV. The She-Goats and their Beards 

XVI. The Pilot and the Mariners 

XVII. The Embassy of the Dogs to Jupiier 

XVIII. The Man and the Snake 

XIX. The Fox and the Dragon 

XX. Phzedrus .... 

XXI. The Shipwreck of Simonides ,. 

XXII. The Mountain in Labour 

XXIII. The Ant and the Fly 

XXIV. Simonides preserved by the Gods 

Epilogue 

Book V. 

Prologue 

Fable I. Demetrius and Menander 

II. The Travellers and tne Robber 

III. The Bald Man and the Fly 

IV. The Man and the Ass 

V. The Buffoon and Countryman 

VI. The Two Bald Men 

VII. Princeps the Flute Player .... 

VIII. The Emblem of Opportunity 

IX. The Bull and the Calf 

X. The Huntsman and the Dog 



Prose. 


Verse. 


404 


507 


405 


508 


405 


509 


406 


509 


407 


•"■■ 


409 


510 


410 


509 


411 


510 


411 


511 


411 


511 


412 


512 


413 


514 


414 


514 


415 


515 


415 


516 


416 


516 


416 


517 


417 


517 


417 


— 


418 


— 


418 


518 


419 


518 


419 


— 


420 


519 


421 


519 


422 


520 


422 


520 


423 


522 


424 


522 


425 


523 


426 


524 


427 


526 


427 


527 


428 


528 


429 


529 


429 


529 


429 


530 


431 


532 


431 


532 


433 


534 


433 


534 


433 


535 



CONTEXTS. 



vu 



The New Fables — attributed to Ph^edrus. 

Fable I. The Ape and the Fox 435 

II. The Author 436 

III. Mercury and the two Women .... .... .... .... 436 

IV. Prometheus and Cunning 437 

V. The Author 438 

VI. The signification of the Punishments of Tartarus .... 438 

VII. The Author 439 

VIII. Msoip and the Author 439 

IX. Pompeius Magnus and his Soldier .... 440 

X. Juno, Venus, and the Hen .... .... .... .... 441 

XT. The Father of a Family and ^Esop 442 

XII. The Philosopher and the Victor in the Gymnastic Games 442 

XIII. The Ass and the Lyre 443 

XIV. The Widow and the Soldier 443 

XV. The Rich Suitor and the Poor One 444 

XVI. jEsop and his Mistress 445 

XVII. A Cock carried in a Litter by Cats 446 

XVIII. The Sow bringing forth and the Wolf 446 

XIX. The Runaway Slave and ^Esop 447 

XX. The Chariot Horse sold for the Mill 447 

XXI. The Hungry Bear 448 

XXII. The Traveller and the Raven 449 

XXIII. The Shepherd and the She- Goal 449 

XXIV. The Serpent and the Lizard 449 

XXV. The Crow and the Sl.eep 450 

XXVI. The Servant and the Master 450 

XXVII. The Hare and the Herdsman 450 

XXVIII. The Young Man and the Courtesan 451 

XXIX. The Beaver 451 

XXX. The Butterfly and the Wasp 452 

XXXI. The Ground-Swallow and the Fox 453 

Epilogue 453 

jEsopian Fables — the authors of which are not known. 



Fable I. The Sick Kite 

II. The Hares tired of Life.... 

III. Jupiter and the Fox 

IV. The Lion and the Mouse 

V. The Man and the Trees 

VI. The Mouse and the Frog 

VII. The Two Cocks and the Hawk 

VIII. The Snail and the Ape 

IX. The City Mouse and the Country Mouse 

X. The Ass fawning upon his Master 

XI. The Crane, the Crow, and the Countryman 

XII. The Birds and the Swallow 



454 
454 
455 
455 
456 
456 
456 
457 
457 
458 
459 
459 



Vlll 



CONTENTS. 



XIII. The Partridge and the Fox 460 

XIV. The Ass, the Ox, and the Birds 461 

XV. The Lion and the Shepherd 461 

XVI. The Gnat and the Bull 462 

XVII. The Horse and the Ass 462 

XVIII. The Birds, the Beasts, and the Bat 463 

XIX. The Nightingale, the Hawk, and the Fowler 463 

XX. The Wolf, the Fox, and the Shepherd 464 

XXI. The Sheep and the Wolves 464 

XXII. The Ape and the Fox 465 

XXIII. The Wolf, the Huntsman, and the Shepherd 465 

XXIV. The Truthful Man, the Liar, and the Apes 466 

XXV. The Man and the Lion 467 

XXVI. The Stork, the Goose, and the Hawk 467 

XXVII. The Sheep and the Crow 468 

XXVIII. The Ant and the Grasshopper 468 

XXIX. The Horse and the Ass 469 

XXX. The Old Lion and the Fox 469 

XXXI. The Camel and the Flea 469 

XXXII. The Kid and the Wolf 470 

XXXIII. The Poor Man and the Serpent ,... 470 

XXXIV. The Eagle and the Kite 471 



ANDBIA; 

THE FAIR ANDBIAN. 



DRAMATIS PERSON/E. 

Smo, 1 an aged Athenian. 

Pamphilus, 3 son of Simo. 

Sosia. 3 freedman of Simo. 

Chbemes, 4 an aged Athenian. 

Chaeixus/ 5 a young Athenian, in love with Philumena. 

Ckito, 6 a native of Andros. 

Davus,7 servant of Simo. 

Deomo, s servant of Simo. 

Bybehia, 9 servant of Charinus. 

Glyceeium, 10 a young woman beloved by Pamphilus. 
Mtsis, 11 her maidservant. 
Lesbia, 12 a midwife. 

Scene. — Athens : before the houses of Smo and Glycerium. 



1 Prom aif-ibs, "flat-nosed." 

2 From ttclv, "all," and <pikbg, " a friend." 

3 From crw^uj, " to save;" saved in war. 

4 From xpfjiiTrrojua^ "to spit." 

5 From x«P l C» " grace." 

6 From KpiTi)c, " a judge." 

7 From Dacia, his native country ; the Davi and Daci being 

the same people. 

8 From dpSj-ios, " sl race." 

9 From TTvppbg, " red-haired." 

10 From y\vK£pbc, u sweet." 

11 From Mysia, her native country. 

12 From Lesbos, her native country. 



THE SUBJECT. 



Cheemes and Phania were brothers, citizens of Athens. Chremes going 
to Asia, leaves his daughter, Pasibula, in the care of his brother 
Phania, who, afterwards setting sail with Pasibula for Asia, is wrecked 
off the Isle of Andros. Escaping with their lives, they are kindly 
received by a native of the island; and Phania soon afterwards dies 
there. The Andrian changes the name of the girl to Glycerium, 
and brings her up, as his own child, with his daughter Chrysis. On 
his death, Chrysis and Glycerium sail for Athens to seek their fortune 
there. Chrysis being admired by several Athenian youths, Pam- 
philus, the son of Simo, an opulent citizen, chances to see Glycerium, 
and falls violently in love with her. She afterwards becomes preg- 
nant by him, on which he makes her a promise of marriage. In 
the meantime, Chremes, who is now living at Athens, and is ignorant 
of the fate of Pasibula, agrees with Simo, the father of Pamphilus, 
to give Philumena, another daughter, in marriage to Pamphilus. 
While these arrangements are being made, Chrysis dies; on which 
Simo accidentally discovers his son's connexion with Glycerium. 
Chremes, also coming to hear of it, declines the match, having no 
idea that Glycerium is really his own daughter. Simo, however, in 
order to test his son's feelings, resolves to pretend that the marriage- 
day is fixed. Meeting Pamphilus in the town, he desires him to go 
home and prepare for the wedding, which is to take place imme- 
diately. In his perplexity, the youth has recourse to his servant 
Davus, who, having heard of the refusal of Chremes, suspects the 
design of Simo. At this conjuncture, Charinus, a friend of Pamphilus, 
who is enamoured of Philumena, but has been rejected by her father, 
entreats Pamphilus to put off the marriage, for at least a few days. 
Disclosing his own aversion to the match, Pamphilus readily engages 
to do this. In order the more effectually to break it off, Davus 
advises Pamphilus to pretend a readiness to comply with his father's 
wishes, supposing that of course Chremes will steadily persist in his 
refusal. Pamphilus does as he is advised, on which Simo again 
applies to Chremes, who, after some entreaty, gives his consent. Just 
at this conjuncture, Glycerium is delivered of a son; and by the advice 
of Davus, it is laid before the door of Simo's house. Chremes hap- 
pening to see it there, and ascertaining that Pamphilus is its father, 
again refuses to give him his daughter. At this moment, Crito, a 
native of Andros, arrives, who, being a relative of Chrysis, has come 
to Athens to look after her property. Through him, Chremes dis- 
covers that Glycerium is no other than his long-lost daughter, 
Pasibula; on which he consents to her immediate marriage with 
Pamphilus, who promises Charinus that he will use his best endea- 
vours to obtain for him the hand of Philumena. 



THE TITLE OF THE PLAY, 



Perfokmed at the Megalensian Games; 1 M. Fulvius and 
M. Glabrio being Curule ^tEdiles. 2 Ambivius Turpio and 
Lucius Atilius PraBnestinus 3 performed it. Flaccus, the 
freedman of Claudius, 4 composed the music, to a pair of 
treble flutes and bass flutes 5 alternately. And it is entirely 

1 The Megalensian Games) — These games were instituted at Rome 
in honour of the Goddess Cybele, whendier statue was brought thither 
from Pessinum, in Asia Minor, by Scipio Nasica ; they were so called 
from the Greek title MeydXrj * MrjTrjp, "the Great Mother." They 
were called Megalesia or Megalensia, indifferently. A very interesting 
account of the origin of these games will be found in the Fasti of Ovid. 
B. iv. 1. 194, et seq. 

2 Being Curule Mdiles) — Among the other offices of the iEdiles at 
Rome, it was their duty to preside at the public games, and to provide 
the necessary dramatic representations for the Theatre, by making 
contracts with the Poets and Actors. 

3 Ambivius Turpio and Lucius A tilius Pramestinus) — These persons 
were the heads or managers of the company of actors who performed 
the Play, and as such it was their province to make the necessary con- 
tracts with the Curule iEdiles. They were also actors themselves, and 
usually took the leading characters. Ambivius Turpio seems to have 
been a favourite with the Roman public, and to have performed for 
many years ; of L. Atilius Prsenestinus nothing is knowa. 

4 Freedman of Claudius) — According to some, the words " Flaccu3 
Claudi" mean " the son of Claudius." It is, however, more generally 
thought that it is thereby meant that he was the freedman or liberated 
slave of some Roman noble of the family of the Claudii. 

5 Treble flutes and bass flutes) — The history of ancient music, 
and especially that relative to the ei tibiae," "pipes" or "flutes," is 
replete with obscurity. It is not agreed what are the meanings of 
the respective terms, but in the present Translation the following 
theory has been adopted: The words "dextrse" and "sinistra*" 
denote the kind of flute, the former being treble, the latter bass 
flutes, or, as they were sometimes called, " incentive" or "succen- 
tivas ;" though it has been thought by some that they were so called 
because the former were held with the right hand, the latter with the 

b2 



4 THE TITLE. 

Grecian. 1 Published — M. Marcellus and Cneius Sulpicius 
being Consuls. 2 

left. When two treble flutes or two bass flutes were played upon at 
the same time, they were called "tibiae pares;" but when one was 
" dextra" and the other " sinistra/' " tibiae impares." Hence the words 
" paribus dextris et sinistris/' would mean alternately with treble flutes 
and bass flutes. Two " tibiae " were often played upon by one performer 
at the same time. For a specimen of aEoman " tibicen" or "piper," 
see the last scene of the Stichus of Plautus. Some curious information 
relative to the pipers of Eome and the legislative enactments respecting 
them will be found in the Fasti of Ovid, B. vi. 1. 653, et seq. 

1 It is entirely Grecian) — This means that the scene is in Greece, 
and that it is of the kind called " palliata," as representing the manners 
of the Greeks, who wore the " pallium," or outer cloak ; whereas the 
Eomans wore the "toga." In the Prologue, Terence states that he 
borrowed it from the Greek of Menander. 

2 Being Consuls) — M. Claudius Marcellus and C. Sulpicius Galba 
were Consuls in the year from the building of Eome 586, and B.C. 167. 



ANDEIA; 

THE FAIB ANDBIAN. 



THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLIKAKIS. 

Pamphilus seduces Glycerium, wrongly supposed to be the sister of a 
Courtesan, an Andrian by birth ; and she having become pregnant, he 
gives his word that she shall be his wife ; but his father has engaged 
for him another, the daughter of Chremes; and when he discovers the 
intrigue he pretends that the nuptials are about to take place, 
desiring to learn what intentions his son may have. By the advice 
of Davus, Pamphilus does not resist ; but Chremes, as soon as he has 
seen the little child born of Glycerium, breaks off the match, and 
declines him for a son-in-law. Afterwards, this Glycerium, unex- 
pectedly discovered to be his own daughter, he bestows as a wife on 
Pamphilus, the other on Charinus. 



THE PEOLOGUE. 

The Poet, when first he applied his mind to writing, thought 
that the only duty which devolved on him was, that the 
Plays he should compose might please the public. But he per- 
ceives that it has fallen out entirely otherwise; for he is wasting 
his labour in writing Prologues, not for the purpose of relating 
the plot, but to answer the slanders of a malevolent old Poet. 1 
Now I beseech you, give your attention to the thing which 
they impute as a fault. Menander composed the Andrian 2 

1 A malevolent old Poet) — Yer. 7. He alludes to Luscus Lanuvinus, 
or Lavinius, a Comic Poet of his time, but considerably his senior. He 
is mentioned by Terence in all his Prologues except that to the Hecyra, 
and seems to have made it the business of his life to run down his 
productions and discover faults in them. 

2 Composed the Andrian) — Yer. 9. This Play, like that of our 
author, took its name from the Isle of Andros, one of the Cyclades in 
the JEgean Sea, where Glycerium is supposed to have been born. 
Donatus, the Commentator on Terence, informs us that the first Scene of 
this Play is almost a literal translation from the Perinthian of Menander, 



6 axdeia ; Act I. 

and the Perinthian. 1 He who knows either of them well, 
will know them both ; they are in plot not very different, 
and yet they have been composed in different language and 
style. What suited, he confesses he has transferred into 
the Andrian from the Perinthian, and has employed them 
as his own. These parties censure this proceeding; and on 
this point they differ from him, that Plays ought not to be 
mixed up together. By being thus knowing, do they not 
show that they know nothing at all? For while they are 
censuring him, they are censuring JSTsevius, Plautus, and 
Ennius, 2 whom our Poet has for his precedents ; whose care- 
lessness he prefers to emulate, rather than the mystifying care- 
fulness 3 of those parties. Therefore, I advise them to be quiet 
in future, and to cease to slander; that they may not be 
made acquainted with their own misdeeds. Be well disposed, 
then ; attend with unbiassed mind, and consider the matter, 
that you may determine what hope is left ; whether the 
Plays which he shall in future compose anew, are to be wit- 
nessed, or are rather to be driven off the stage. 



ACT THE FIBST. 
Scene I. 

Enter Simo and Sosia, followed ~by Seevants carrying 

provisions. 

Simo. (to the Servants.) Do you carry those things away 
in-doors ; begone. (Beckoning to Sosia.) Sosia, just step 
here ; I want a few words with you. 

in which the old man was represented as discoursing with his wife just 
as Simo does here with Sosia. In the Andrian of Menander, the old 
man opened with a soliloquy. 

1 And the Perinthian)— -Yer. 9. This Play was so called from 
Perinthus, a town of Thrace, its heroine being a native of that place. 

2 Ncevius, Plautus, and Ennius)— Vex. 18. Ennius was the oldest of 
these three Poets. Nsevius was a contemporary of Plautus. See a proba- 
ble allusion to his misfortunes in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, 1. 211. 

3 The mystifying carefulness)— -Yer. 21. By "obscuramdiligentiam" 
he means that formal degree of precision which is productive of 
obscurity. 



Sc. I. THE FAIR AKBSIAN, 7 

Sosia. Consider it as said ; that these tilings are to be 
taken care of, I suppose. 1 

Sim. No, it's another matter. 

Sos. "What is there that my ability can effect for you more 
than this ? 

Sim. There r s no need of that ability in the matter which 
I have in hand; but of those qualities which I have ever 
known as existing in you, fidelity and secrecy. 

Sos. I await your will. 

Sim. Since I purchased you, you know that, from a little 
child, your seiwitude with me has always been easy and light. 
From a slave I made you my freedman; 2 for this reason, 
because you served me with readiness. The greatest recom- 
pense that I possessed, I bestowed upon you. 

Sos. I bear it in mind. 

Sim. I am not changed. 

Sos. If I have done or am doing aught that is pleasing 
to you, Simo, I am glad that it has been done ; and that 
the same has been gratifying to you, I consider sufficient 
thanks. But this is a cause of uneasiness to me; for the 
recital is, as it were, a censure 3 to one forgetful of a kindness. 
But tell me, in one word, what it is that you want with me. 

Sim. I'll do so. In the first place, in this affair I give you 
notice : this, which you suppose to be such, is not a real 
marriage. 

Sos. Why do you pretend it then? 

Sim. You shall hear all the matter from the beginning; 
by that means you'll be acquainted with both my son's mode 

1 Are to be taken care of, I suppose) — Yer 30. " Xempe ut curentur 
recte li£ec." Colman here remarks ; " Madame Dacier will have it that 
Simo here makes use of a kitchen term in the word 'curentur.' I 
believe it rather means f to take care of anything generally; and at 
the conclusion of this very scene, Sosia uses the word again, speaking of 
things very foreign to cookery, ' Sat est, curabo.'" 

2 To be my freedman) — Yer. 37. " Libertus" was the name given 
to a slave set at liberty by his master. A " libertinus " was the son 
ota "libertus." 

3 As it were a censure) — Yer. 43. Among the Greeks (whose manners 
and sentiments are supposed to be depicted in this Play) it was a maxim 
that he who did a kindness should forget it, while he who received 
it should keep it in memory. Sosia consequently feels uneasy, and 
considers the remark of his master in the light of a reproach. 



8 andeia; Act I. 

of life and my own design, and what I want you to do in this 
affair. For after he had passed youthfulness, 1 Sosia, and had 
obtained free scope of living, (for before, how could you know 
or understand his disposition, while youthful age, fear, and a 
master 2 were checking him?) 

Sos. That's true. 

Sim. What all young men, for the most part, do, — devote 
their attention to some particular pursuit, either to training 
horses or dogs for hunting, or to the philosophers; 3 in not one 
of these did he engage in particular beyond the rest, and yet 
in all of them in a moderate degree. I was pleased. 

Sos. Not without reason ; for this I deem in life to be 
especially advantageous ; that one do nothing to excess. 4 

Sim. Such was his mode of life ; readily to bear and to 
comply with all ; with whomsoever he was in company, to 
them to resign himself ; to devote himself to their pursuits ; 
at variance with no one ; never preferring himself to them. 
Thus most readily you may acquire praise without envy, and 
gain friends. 

Sos. He has wisely laid down his rule of life; for in these 
days obsequiousness begets friends; sincerity, dislike. 

Sim. Meanwhile, three years ago, 5 a certain woman from 

1 After he had passed from youthfidness) — Yer. 51. "Ephebus" 
was the name given to a youth when between the ages of sixteen 
and twenty. 

2 And a master)— Yer. 54. See the Notes to the Translation of 
the Bacchides of Plautus, 1. 109, where Lydus, a slave, appears as the 
" paedagogus," or " magister," of Pistoclerus. 

3 Or to the philosophers) — Ver. 57. It was the custom in Greece 
with all young men of free birth to apply themselves to the study of 
philosophy, of course with zeal proportioned to the love of learning in 
each. They each adopted some particular sect, to which they attached 
themselves. There is something sarcastic here, and indeed not very 
respectful to the " philosophers," in coupling them as objects of attrac- 
tion with horses and hounds. 

4 Nothing to excess) — Yer 61. " Ne quid mmis." This was one of 
the three sentences which were inscribed in golden letters in the Temple 
of Apollo at Delphi. The two others were ''Know thyself," and 
" Misery is the consequence of debt and discord." Sosia seems from 
the short glimpse we have of him to have been a retailer of old saws 
and proverbs. He is unfortunately only a Protatic or introductory 
character, as we lose sight of him after this Act. 

5 Meanwhile, three years ago) — Yer. 69. The following remark of 
Donatus on this passage is quoted by Colman for its curiosity. " The 



Sc. I. THE FAIR ANDRIAN. 9 

Andros removed hither into this neighbourhood, driven by 
poverty and the neglect of her relations, of surpassing beauty 
and in the bloom of youth. 

Sos. Ah ! I'm afraid that this Andrian will bring some 
mischief. 

Sim. At first, in a modest way, she passed her life with 
thriftiness and in hardship, seeking a livelihood with her wool 
and loom. But after an admirer made advances, promising 
her a recompense, first one and then another; as the disposi- 
tion of all mankind has a downward tendency from industry 
towards pleasure, she accepted their proposals, and then 
began to trade upon her oeauty. Those who then were her 
admirers, by chance, as it often happens, took my son thither 
that he might be in their company. Forthwith I said to 
myself, "He is surely caught; he is smitten." 1 In the 
morning I used to observe their servant-boys coming or 
going away ; I used to make enquiry, " Here, my lad, tell 
me, will you, who had Chrysis yesterday ?" for that was the 
name of the Andrian {touching Sosia on the arm). 

Sos. I understand. 

Sim. Phsedrus, or Clinias, or Niceratus, they used to say; 
for these three then loved her at the same time. " Well now, 
what did Pamphilus do ?" "What ? He gave his contribution; 2 
he took part in the dinner." Just so on another day I made 
inquiry, but I discovered nothing whatever that affected 
Pamphilus. In fact, I thought him sufficiently proved, and 
a great pattern of continence; for he who is brought into 

Author has artfully said three years,, when he might have given a 
longer or a shorter period ; since it is probable that the woman might 
have lived modestly one year; set up the trade the next; and died the 
third. In the first year, therefore, Pamphilus knew nothing of the 
family of Chrysis; in the second, he became acquainted with Glycerium ; 
and in the third, Glycerium marries Pamphilus, and finds her 
parents." 

1 He is smitten)— Ver. 78. "Habet," literally "He has it." This 
was the expression used by the spectators at the moment when a 
Gladiator was wounded by his antagonist. In the previous line, in the 
words " captus est," a figurative allusion is made to the " retiarius," a 
Gladiator who was provided with a net, with which he endeavoured to 
entangle his opponent. 

2 Gave his contribution) — Yer. 88. " Symbolam." The " symbols," 
" shot ' ' at pic-nic or club entertainments, are more than once alluded 
to in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus. 



10 andria; Act I. 

contact with dispositions of that sort, and his feelings are 
not aroused even under such circumstances, you may be sure 
that he is already capable of undertaking the governance of 
his own life. This pleased me, and everybody with one 
voice leg an to say all kinds of flattering things, and to extol 
my good fortune, in having a son endowed with such a dis- 
position. What need is there of talking? Chremes, in- 
fluenced by this report, came to me of his own accord, to 
offer his only daughter as a wife to my son, with a very 
large portion. It pleased me ■ I betrothed him ; this was 
the day appointed for the nuptials. 

Sos. What then stands in the way ? Why should they not 
take place ? 

Sim. You shall hear. In about a few days after these 
things had been agreed on, Chrysis, this neighbour, dies. 

Sos. Bravo ! You've made me happy. I was afraid for him 
on account of Chrysis. 

Sim. Then my son was often there, with those who had 
admired Chrysis ; with them he took charge of the funeral ; 
sorrowful, in the meantime, he sometimes wept with them 
in condolence. Then that pleased me. Thus I reflected : 
"He by reason of this slight intimacy takes her death so 
much to heart ; what if he himself had wooed her ? What 
will he do for me his father ?" All these things I took to 
be the duties of a humane disposition and of tender feelings. 
Why do I detain you with many ivords ? Even I myself, 1 
for his sake, went forth to the funeral, as yet suspecting 
no harm. 

Sos. Ha ! what is this ? 

Sim. You shall know. She is brought out ; we proceed. 
In the meantime, among the females who were there 
present, I saw by chance one young woman of beauteous 
form. 

Sos. Yery likely. 

Sim. And of countenance, Sosia, so modest, so charming, 
that nothing could surpass. As she appeared to me to lament 
beyond the rest, and as she was of a figure handsome and 
genteel beyond the other women, I approached the female 

1 Even I myself) — Yer. 116. Cooke remarks here : " A complaisant 
father, to go to the funeral of a courtesan, merely to oblige his 
son I" 



Sc. I. THE FAIR ANDRIAN. 11 

attendants $ I enquired who she was. They said that she was 
the sister of Chrysis. It instantly struck my mind : " Aye, 
aye, this is it ; hence those tears, hence that sympathy." 

Sos. How I dread what you are coming to ! 

Sim. The funeral - procession meanwhile advances ; we 
follow ; we come to the burying-place. 2 She is placed 
upon the pile ; they weep. In the meantime, this sister, 
whom I mentioned, approached the flames too incautiously, 
with considerable danger. There, at that moment, Pam- 
philus, in his extreme alarm, discovers his well-dissembled 
and long-hidden passion ; he runs up, clasps the damsel by 
the waist. "My Glycerium," says he, "what are you doing? 
Why are you going to destroy yourself ?" Then she, so that 
you might easily recognize their habitual attachment, weep- 
ing, threw herself back upon him — how affectionately ! 

Sos. What do you say? 

Sim. I returned thence in anger, and hurt at heart : and yet 
there was not sufficient ground for reproving him. He might 
say; " What have I done ? How have I deserved this, or 
offended, father ? She who wished to throw herself into the 
flames, I prevented ; I saved her." The defence is a reason- 
able one. 

Sos. You judge aright ; for if you censure him who has 
assisted to preserve life, what are you to do to him who causes 
loss or misfortune to it ? 

Sim. Chremes comes to me next day, exclaiming : " Dis- 
graceful conduct !" — that he had ascertained that Pamphilus 
was keeping this foreign woman as a wife. I steadfastly 
denied that to be the fact. He insisted that it was the fact. 
In short, I then left him refusing to bestow his daughter. 

Sos. Did not you then reprove your son ? 

Sim. Not even this was a cause sufficiently strong for 
censuring him. 

Sos. How so ? Tell me. 

1 The female attendants) — Ver. 123. " Pedissequae." These 
" pedissequae," or female attendants, are frequently alluded to in 
the Plays of Plautus. See the Notes to Bonn's Translation. 

2 To the burying-place) — Yer. 128. " Sepulcrum" strictly means, the 
tomb or place for burial, but here the funeral pile itself. When the 
bones were afterwards buried on the spot where they were burnt, it was 
called " bustum." 



12 aotria ; Act I. 

Sim. "You yourself, father/' he might say, " liave prescribed 
a limit to these proceedings. The time is near, when I must 
live according to the humour of another ; meanwhile, for the 
present allow me to live according to my own." 

Sos. What room for reproving him, then, is there left ? 

Sim. If on account of his amour he shall decline to take a 
wife, that, in the first place, is an offence *on his part to be 
censured. And now for this am" I using my endeavours, 
that, by means of the pretended marriage, there may be real 
ground for rebuking him, if he should refuse ; at the same 
time, that if that rascal Davus has any scheme, he may 
exhaust it now, while his knaveries can do no harm : who, I 
do believe, with hands, feet, and all his might, will do 
everything ; and more for this, no doubt, that he may do me 
an ill turn, than to oblige my son. 

Sos. For what reason ? 

Sim. Do you ask? Bad heart, bad disposition. Whom, 

however, if I do detect But what need is there of 

talking? If it should turn out, as I wish, that there 
is no delay on the part of Pamphilus, Chremes remains 
to be prevailed upon by me; and I do hope that all will 
go well. Now it's your duty to pretend these nuptials 
cleverly, to terrify Davus ; and watch my son, what he's 
about, what schemes he is planning with him. 

Sos. 'Tis enough ; I'll take care ; now let's go in-doors. 

Sim. You go first ; I'll follow. (Sosia goes into the house 
of Simo.) 

Sim. {to himself.) There's no doubt but that my son 
doesn't wish for a wife ; so alarmed did I perceive Davus 
to be just now, when he heard that there was going to be a 
marriage. But the very man is coming out of the house. 
{Stands aside.) 



Scene II. 

Enter Davus from the house of Simo. 

Dav. {aloud to himself) I was wondering if this matter 
was to go off thus ; and was continually dreading where my 



Sc. II. THE FAIR ANDRIAN". 13 

master's good humour would end ; for, after he had heard 
that a wife would not be given to his son, never uttered a 
word to any one of us, or took it amiss. 

Sim. (apart, overhearing him.) But now he'll do so : and 
that, I fancy, not without heavy cost to you. 

Dav. (to himself.) He meant this, that we, thus unsus- 
pecting, should be led away by delusive joy; that now in 
hope, all fear being removed, we might during our supine- 
ness be surprised, so that there might be no time for 
planning a rupture of the marriage. How clever ! 

Sim. (apart.) The villain! what does he say? 

Dav. (overhearing Jiim, to himself.) It's my master, and I 
didn't see him. 

Sim. Davus. 

Dav. Well, what is it ? 

Sim. Just step this way to me. 

Dav. (to himself) What does he want ? 

Sim. What are you saying ? 

Dav. About what ? 

Sim. Do you ask the question? There's a report that 
my son's in love. 

Dav. The public troubles itself about that, 1 of course. 

Sim. Will you attend to this, or not ? 

Dav. Certainly, I will, to that. 

Sim. But for me to enquire now into these matters, were 
the part of a severe father. For what he has done hitherto, 
doesn't concern me at all. So long as his time of life 
prompted to that course, I allowed him to indulge his in- 
clination : now this day brings on another mode of life, 
demands other habits. From this time forward, I do request, 
or if it is reasonable, I do entreat you, Davus, that he may 
now return to the right path. 

Dav. (aside.) What can this mean ? 

Sim. All who are intriguing take it ill to have a wife 
given them. 

Dav. So they say. 

Sim. And if any one has adopted a bad instructor in that 

1 Troubles itself about that) — Yer. 185. He says this contemptuously, 
as if it was likely that the public should take any such great interest in 
his son as the father would imply by his remark. By thus saying, he 
also avoids giving a direct reply. 



14 andkia ; Act I. 

course, he generally urges the enfeebled mind to pursuits 
still more unbecoming. 

Dav. Pfaith, I do not comprehend. 

Sim. No? Ha— 

Dav. No — I am Davus, not (Edipus. 1 

Sim. Of course then, you wish me to speak plainly in 
what further I have to say. 

Dav. Certainly, by all means. 

Sim. If I this day find out that you are attempting any 
trickery about this marriage, to the end that it may not 
take place ; or are desirous that in this matter it should 
be proved how knowing you are ; I'll hand you over, Davus, 
beaten with stripes, to the mill, 2 even to your dying day, 
upon this condition and pledge, that if ever I release you, 
I shall grind in your place. Now, do you understand this ? 
Or not yet even this ? 

Dav. Yes, perfectly : you have now spoken so plainly upon 
the subject, you have not used the least circumlocution. 

Sim. In anything would I more willingly allow myself 
to be imposed upon than in this matter. 

Dav. Fair words, I entreat. 

Sim. You are ridiculing me : you don't at all deceive me. 
I give you warning, don't act rashly, and don't say you 
were not warned. Take care. (Shaking his stick, goes into 
the house.) 

Scene III. 

Davus alone. 

Dav. (to himself.) Assuredly, Davus, there's no room for 
slothf illness or inactivity, so far as I've just now ascertained 
the old man's mind about the marriage ; which, if it is not 
provided against by cunning, will be bringing either myself or 
my master to ruin. What to do, I am not determined ; 
whether I should assist Pamphilus or obey the old man. If 
I desert the former, I fear for his life ; if I assist him, I dread 

1 Davus, not (Edipus) — Yer. 194. Alluding to the circumstance of 
(Edipus alone being able to solve the riddle of the Sphynx. 

2 To the mill) — Yer. 199. The " pistrinum," or " hand-mill," for grind- 
ing corn, was used as a mode of punishment for refractory slaves. See 
the Notes to the Translation of Piautus. 



Sc. IV. THE FAIR AXDEIAX. 15 

the other's threats, on whom it "will be a difficult matter to 
impose. In the first place, he has now found out about this 
amour \ with hostile feelings he watches me, lest I should be 
devising some trickery against the marriage. If he discovers 
it, I'm undone; or even if he chooses to allege any pretext, 
whether rightfully or wrongfully, he will consign me head- 
long to the mill. To these evils this one is besides added 
for me. This Andrian, whether she is his wife, or whether 
his mistress, is pregnant by Pamphilus. It is worth while 
to hear their effrontery ; for it is an undertaking worth}/ of 
those in their dotage, not of those who dote in love j 1 what- 
ever she shall bring forth, they have resolved to rear ; 2 and 
they are now contriving among themselves a certain scheme, 
that she is a citizen of Attica. There was formerly a certain 
old man of this place, a merchant ; he was shipwrecked 
off the isle of Andros ; he died. They say that there, the 
father of Chiysis, on that occasion, sheltered this girl, thrown 
on shore, an orphan, a little child. What nonsense! To 
myself at least it isn't very probable ; the fiction pleases 
them however. But Z\Iy sis is coming out of the house. 
Now I'll betake myself hence to the Forum, 3 that I may 
meet with Pamphilus, lest his father should take him by 
surprise about this matter. (Exit. 

Scexe IV. 
Enter Mysis/zw;? the house of Glycerium. 
Mys. {speaking at the door to Arch yl is within.) Tve heard 

1 Those in their dotage, not those icho dote in love) — Yer. 213. 
There is a jingle intended in this line, in the resemblance between 
"amentiura."' "mad persons," and " amantiurn," "lovers." 

- They have resolved to rear) — Yer. 219. This passage alludes to the 
custom among the Greeks of laying new-born children on the ground 
upon which the father, or other person who undertook the care of the 
child, lifted it from the ground, " tollebat." In case no one took charge 
of the child, it was exposed, which was very frequently done in the case 
of female children. Plato was the first to inveigh against this barbarous 
practice. It is frequently alluded to in the Plays of Plautus. 

3 Hence to the Forum) — Yer. 226. Colman has the following remark : 
" The Forum is frequently spoken of in the Comic Authors ; and from 
various passages in which Terence mentions it. it may be collected that 
it was a public place, serving the several purposes of a market, the seat 
of the courts of justice, a public walk, and an exchange."' 



16 andeia; Act I. 

you already, Archylis ; you request Lesbia to be fetched. 
Really, upon my faith, she is a wine-bibbing 1 and a rash 
woman, and not sufficiently trustworthy for you to commit 
to her care a female at her first delivery ; is she still to be 
brought ? (She receives an answer from within, and comes 
forward) Do look at the inconsiclerateness of the old 
woman ; because she is her pot-companion. Ye Gods, I 
do entreat you, give her ease in her delivery, and to that 
woman an opportunity of making her mistakes elsewhere 
in preference. But why I do see Pamphilus so out of 
spirits ? I fear what it may be. I'll wait, that I may 
know whether this sorrow portends any disaster. {Stands 
apart.) 

Scene V. 
Enter Pamphilus, wringing his hands. 

Pam. (to himself) Is it humane to do or to devise this ? 
Is this the duty of a father ? 

Mys. (apart.) What does this mean ? 

Pam. (to himself.) O, by our faith in the Gods ! what is, 
if this is not, an indignity ? He had resolved that he him- 
self would give me a wife to-day ; ought I not to have 
known this beforehand ? Ought it not to have been men- 
tioned previously ? 

Mys. (apart.) "Wretched me! What language do I hear? 

Pam. (to himself) What does Chremes do ? He who had de- 
clared that he would not entrust his daughter to me as a wife ; 
because he himself sees me unchanged he has changed. Thus 
perversely does he lend his aid, that he may withdraw 
wretched me from Glycerium. If this is effected, I am utterly 
undone. That any man should be so unhappy in love, or so 
unfortunate as I am ! Oh, faith of Gods and men ! shall I 
by no device be able to escape this alliance with Chremes ? 
In how many ways am I contemned, and held in scorn ? 
Everything done, and concluded! Alas! once rejected I am 
sought again ; for what reason ? Unless perhaps it is this, 

1 Wine-bibbing) — Yer. 229. The nurses and midwives of antiquity- 
seem to have been famed for their tippling propensities. In some of 
the Plays of Plautus we do not find them spared. 



Sc. V. THE FAIR ATOM AN. 17 

which I suspect it is : they are rearing some monster, * and 
as she cannot be pushed off upon any one else, they have 
recourse to me. 

Mys. {apart.) This language has terrified wretched me 
with apprehension. 

Pam. {to himself.) But what am I to say about my father? 
Alas! that he should so thoughtlessly conclude an affair of 
such importance! Passing me in the Forum just now, 
he said, "Pamphilus, you must be married to-day : get ready; 
be off home." He seemed to me to say this : " Be off this 
instant, and go hang yourself." I was amazed ; think you 
that I was able to utter a single word, or any excuse, even 
a frivolous, false, or lame one? I was speechless. But if 
any one were to ask me now what I would have done, if I 
had known this sooner, ichy, I would have done anything 
rather than do this. But now, what course shall I first 
adopt ? So many cares beset me, which rend my mind to 
pieces ; love, sympathy for her, the worry of this marriage ; 
then, respect for my father, who has ever, until now, with 
such an indulgent disposition, allowed me to do whatever 
was agreeable to my feelings. Ought I to oppose him ? Ah 
me! I am in uncertainty what to do. 

Mys. {apart.) I'm wretchedly afraid how this uncertainty 
is to terminate. But now there's an absolute necessity, either 
for him to speak to her, or for me to speak to him about 
her. While the mind is in suspense, it is swayed by a 
slight impulse one way or the other. 

Pam. {overhearing her.) Who is it speaking here? {Seeing 
her.) Mysis ? Good morrow to you. 

Mys. O ! Good morrow to you, Pamphilus. 

Pam. How is she ? 

Mys. Do you ask? She is oppressed with grief, 2 and on 
this account the poor thing is anxious, because some time 

1 Bearing some monster) — Yer. 250. "Aliquid monstri alunt." 
Madame Dacier and some other Commentators give these words the 
rather far-fetched meaning of " They are hatching some plot." 
Donatus, with much more probability, supposes him to refer to the 
daughter of Chreraes, whom, as the young women among the Greeks 
were brought up in great seclusion, we may suppose Pamphilus never 
to have seen. 

2 She is oppressed with grief) — Yer. 268. " Laborat a dolore." 

C 



18 akdbia ; Act I., Sc. Y. 

ago tlie marriage was arranged for this day. Then, too, she 
fears this, that you may forsake her. 

Pam. Ha! could I attempt that? Could I suffer her, poor 
thing, to be deceived on my account? She, who has con- 
fided to me her affection, and her entire existence? She, 
whom I have held especially dear to my feelings as my wife? 
Shall I suffer her mind, well and chastely trained and tutored, 
to be overcome by poverty and corrupted? I will not 
do it. 

Mys. I should have no fear if it rested with yourself alone; 
but whether you may be able to withstand compulsion 

Pam. Do you deem me so cowardly, so utterly ungrateful, 
inhuman, and so brutish, that neither intimacy, nor affection, 
nor shame, can move or admonish me to keep faith? 

Mys. This one thing I know, that she is deserving that 
you should not forget her. 

Pam. Forget her? Oh Mysis, Mysis, at this moment 
are those words of Chrysis concerning Glycerium written on 
my mind. Now at the point of death, she called me ; I went 
to her ; you had withdrawn ; we were alone ; she began : " My 
dear Pamphilus, you see her beauty and her youth; and it is 
not unknown to you to what extent both of these are now 
of use to her, in protecting both her chastity and her inte- 
rests. By this right hand I do entreat you, and by your 
good Genius, 1 by your own fidelity, and by her bereft cohdi- 

Colman has the following remark upon this passage : " Though 
the word ' laborat ' has tempted Donatus and the rest of the Com- 
mentators to suppose that this sentence signifies Glycerium being in 
labour, I cannot help concurring with Cooke, that it means simply 
that she is weighed down with grief. The words immediately subse- 
quent corroborate this interpretation; and at the conclusion of the 
Scene, when Mysis tells him that she is going for a midwife, Pamphilus 
hurries her away, as he would naturally have done here had he under- 
stood by these words that her mistress was in labour." 

1 By your good Genius) — Ver. 289. " Per Genium tuum." This was 
a common expression with the Romans, and is used by Horace, Epistles, 
B. i., Ep. 7 :— 

" Quod te per Genium dextramque Deosque Penates, 
Obsecro, et obtestor " 

The word " Genius" signified the tutelary God who was supposed to 
attend every person from the period of his birth. The signification of 
the word will be found further referred to in the Notes to the Trans- 
lation of Plautus. 



Act II., Sc. I. THE FAIR ANT>RIAN T . 19 

tion, do not withdraw yourself from her, or forsake her ; if 
I have loved you as my own brother, or if she has always 
prized you above ail others, or has been obedient to you in 
all things. You do I give to her as a husband, friend, pro- 
tector, father. This property of mine do I entrust to you, 
and commit to your care." She placed her in my hands; 
that instant, death came upon her. I accepted her; having 
accepted, I will protect her. 

Mys. So indeed I hope. {Moving.) 

Pam. But why are you leaving her? 

Mys. I'm going to fetch the midwife. 1 

Pam. Make all haste. And — do you hear? — take care, 
and not one word about the marriage, lest that too should 
add to her illness. 

Mys. I understand. (Exeunt severally. 



ACT THE SECOND. 

Scene I. 

Enter Charinus and Byrrhia. 2 

Char. How say you, Byrrhia? Is she to be given in 
marriage to Pamphilus to-day? 
Byr. It is so. 
Char. How do you know? 

1 To fetch the midwife) — Yer. 299. Cooke lias the following remark 
here : " Methinks Mysis has loitered a little too much, considering' the 
business which she was sent about; but perhaps Terence knew that 
some women were of such a temper as to gossip on the way, though an 
affair of life or death requires their haste." Colman thus takes him to 
task for this observation : " This two-edged reflection, glancing at once 
on Terence and the ladies, is, I think, very ill-founded. The delay of 
Mysis, on seeing the emotion of Pamphilus, is very natural ; and her 
artful endeavours to interest Pamphilus on behalf of her mistress, 
are rather marks of her attention than neglect." 

2 Charinus and Byrrhia). "We learn from Donatus that the 
characters of Charinus and Byrrhia were not introduced in the work 
of Menander, but were added to the Play of Terence, lest Philumena's 
being left without a husband, on the marriage of Pamphilus to Glyce- 
rium, should appear too tragical a circumstance. Diderot is of opinion 
that Terence did not improve his Play by this addition. 

c2 



20 andria ; Act II. 

Byr. I heard it just now from Davus at the Forum. 

Char. Woe unto wretched me ! As, hitherto, until now, my 
mind has been racked amid hope and fear; so, since hope 
has been withdrawn, wearied with care, it sinks overwhelmed. 

Byr. By my troth, Charinus, since that which you wish 
cannot come to pass, prithee, do wish that which can. 

Char. I wish for nothing else but Philumena. 

Byr. Alas! How much better were it for you to endea- 
vour to expel that passion from your mind, than to be saying 
that by which your desire is to no purpose still more inflamed. 

Char. We all, when we are well, with ease give good 
advice to the sick. If you were in my situation, you would 
think otherwise. 

Byr. Well, well, just as you like. 

Char, (looking down the side scene}) But I see Pamphilus ; 
I'm determined I'll try everything before I despair. 

Byr. {aside?) What does he mean? 

Char. I will entreat his own self; I will supplicate him; 
I will disclose to him my love. I think that I shall prevail 
upon him to put off the marriage for some days at least; 
in the meantime, something will turn up, I trust. 

Byr. That something is nothing. 

Char. Byrrhia, how seems it to you? Shall I accost him ? 

Byr. Why not ? Should you not prevail, that at least he 
may look upon you as a gallant ready provided for him, if 
he marries her. 

Char. Away with you to perdition with that vile sugges- 
tion, you rascal ! 

Scene II. 
"Enter Pamphilus. 

Pam. I espy Charinus. {Accosting him.) Good morrow! 

Char. O, good morrow. Pamphilus, I'm come to you, 
seeking hope, safety, counsel, and assistance. 

Pam. I' faith, I have neither time for counsel, nor resources 
for assistance. But what's the matter now? 

Char. To-day you are going to take a wife ? 

Pam. So they say. 

Char. Pamphilus, if you do that, you behold me this day 
for the last time. 



Sc. II. THE FAIR AXDEIAX. 21 

Pam. Why so ? 

Char. Ah rae! I dread to tell it; prithee, do you tell it, 
Emilia. 

'Bye. I'll tell it. 

Pah What is it ? 

Bye. He's in lore with your betrothed. 

Pam. Assuredly he's not of my way of thinking. Come now, 
tell me, have you had any more to do with her, Charinus ? 

Char. Oh Pamphilus, nothing. 

Pam. How much I wish you had. 

Char. Now, by our friendship and by my affection, I do 
beseech you, in the first place, not to marry her. 

Pam. For my own part I'll use my endeavours. 

Char. But if that cannot be, or if this marriage is agree- 
able to you 

Pam. Agreeable to me? 

Char. Put it off for some days at least, while I go else- 
where, that I may not be witness. 

Pam. ISTow listen, once for all : I think it, Charinus, to be 
by no means the part of an ingenuous man, when he confers 
nothing, to expect that it should be considered as an obli- 
gation on his part. I am more desirous to avoid this match, 
than you to gain it. 

Char. You have restored me to life. 

Pam. ISTow, if you can do anything, either you yourself, or 
Byrrhia here, manage, fabricate, invent, contrive some means, 
whereby she may be given to you; this I shall aim at, how 
she may not be given to me. 

Char. I am satisfied. 

Pam. Most opportunely I perceive Davos, on whose advice 
I have depended. 

Char, {turning to Byrrhia.) But you, rfaith, tell me 
nothing, 1 except those things which there is no need for 
knowing. (Pushing him aicag.) Get you gone from here. 

Byr. Certainly I will, and with all my heart. (Exit. 

1 Tell me nothing) — Ter. 336. It has been suggested that this 
refers to Byrrhia's dissuading his master from addressing Pamphilus, 
or else to what he has told him concerning the intended marriage. 
Westerhoviue thinks that Byrrhia is just then whispering some trifling 
nonsense in his master's ear. which he, occupied with more important 
cares, is unwilling to attend to. 



22 andria; Act II. 

Scene III. 
Enter Davus, in haste. 

Day. (not seeing Pamphilus and Charinus.) Ye gracious 
Gods, what good news I bring! But where shall I find Pam- 
philus, that I may remove the apprehension in which he now 
is, and fill his mind with joy ? 

Char, (apart to Pamphilus.) He's rejoiced about something, 
I don't know what. 

Pam. (apart.) It's of no consequence; he hasn't yet heard 
of these misfortunes. 

Dav. (to himself.) For I do believe now, if he has already 
heard that a marriage is prepared for him 

Char, (apart) Don't you hear him ? 

Dav. (to himself.) He is seeking me distractedly all the 
city over. But where shall I look for him ? Or in which direc- 
tion now first to betake me 

Char, (apart to Pamphilus.) Do you hesitate to accost 
him? 

Dav. (to himself.) I have it. (Moving on) 

Pam. Davus, come here! Stop! 

Dav. Who's the person that's (Turning round.) O 

Pamphilus, you are the very man I'm looking for. Well 
done, Charinus ! both in the nick of time : I want you both. 

Char. Davus, I'm undone! 

Dav. Nay but, do hear this. 

Pam. I'm utterly mined! 

Dav. I know what you are afraid of. 

Char. I'faith, my life indeed is really in danger. 

Dav. (to Charinus.) And what you are afraid of I know. 

Pam. My marriage 

Dav. As if I did not know it ? 

Pam. This day 

Dav. Why keep dinning me with it, when I know it all ? 
(To Pamphilus.) This are you afraid of, lest you should marry 
her; and you (to Charinus,) lest you should not marry her. 

Char. You understand the matter. 

Pam. That's the very thing. 

Dav. And that very thing is in no danger; trust me 
for that. 



Sc. III. THE FAIR ANDRIAN. 23 

Pam. I do entreat you, release wretched me as soon as 
possible from this apprehension. 

Dav. Well, then. I will release yon ; Chremes is not going 
to give you his daughter at present. 

Pam. How do you know? 

Day. You shall know. Your father just now laid hold 
of me; he said that a wife was to he given you to-day, and 
many other things as well, which just now I haven't time 
to relate. Hastening to you immediately, I ran on to the 
Forum that I might tell you these things. When I didn't 
find you, I ascended there to a high place. 1 I looked 
around; you were nowhere. There by chance I saw Byrrhia, 
his servant {pointing to Charixus). I enquired of him; 
he said he hadn't seen you. This puzzled me. I consi- 
dered what I was to do. As I was returning in the mean- 
time, a surmise from the circumstances themselves occurred 
to me: " How now, — a very small amount of good cheer; 
he out of spirits; a marriage all of a sudden; these things 
don't agree." 

Pam. But to what purpose this? 

Dav. I forthwith betook myself to the house of Chremes. 
When I arrived there — stillness before the door f then I was 
pleased at that. 

Char. You say well. 

Pam. Proceed. 

Dav. I stopped tliere. In the meantime I saw no one 
going in, no one going out ; no matron at the house, 3 no 
preparation, no bustle. I drew near ; looked in 



1 To a high 'place) — Yer. 356. He probably alludes to some part of 
the Acropolis, the citadel, or higher part of Athens, which comnianded 
a view of the lower town. 

2 Stillness before the door) — Yer. 362. Madame Dacier observes that 
this remark is very appropriately made by Davus, as showing that the 
marriage was clearly not intended by Chremes. The house of the 
bride on such an occasion would be thronged by her friends, and at the 
door would be the musicians and those who were to form part of the 
bridal procession. 

3 No matron at the house) — Yer. 364. By the use of the word 
" matrona," he probably alludes to the " pronub^e " among the Komans, 
whose duties were somewhat similar to those of our bride's-maids. At 
the completion of the bridal repast, the bride was conducted to the 
bridal chamber by matrons who had not had more than one husband. 



24 axdeia; Act II. 

Pam. I understand; a considerable indication. 

Dav. Do these things seem to accord with a wedding? 

Pam. I think not, Davus. 

Dav. Think, do you say ? You don't view it rightly ; 
the thing is certain. Besides, coming away from there I saw 
the servant-boy of Chremes carrying some vegetables and 
little fishes, an obol's worth, 1 for the old man's dinner. 

Char. This day, Davus, have I been delivered by your 
means. 

Dav. And yet not at all. 

Char. Why so ? Surely he will not give her to him, after 
all this. (Pointing to Pamphilus.) 

Dav. You silly fellow ! as though it were a necessary 
consequence that if he doesn't give her to him you should 
marry her : unless, indeed, you look about you ; unless you 
entreat and make court to the old man's friends. 

Char. You advise well. I'll go ; although, upon my faith, 
this hope has often eluded me already. Farewell! 

(Exit 

SCEKE IY. 

Pamphilus and Davus. 

Pam. What then does my father mean ? Why does he 
thus make pretence ? 

Dav. I'll tell you. If now he were angry with you, 
because Chremes will not give you a wife, he would seem 
to himself to be unjust, and that not without reason, 
before he has ascertained your feelings as to the marriage, 
how they are disposed. But if you refuse to marry her, in 
that case he will transfer the blame, to you; then such 
disturbances will arise. 

Pam. I will submit to anything from Mm. 

Dav. He is your father, Pamphilus. It is a difficult mat- 
ter. Besides, this woman is defenceless. No sooner said 

1 An oboVs worth) — Yer. 369. The "obolus" was the smallest Greek 
silver coin, and was equal in value to about three halfpence of our money. 
" Pisciculi minuti," " little fish/' were much used for food among the 
poorer classes; "mena," a fish resembling our pilchard, was a common 
article of food with the Romans. The larger kinds of fish went under 
the general name of "cetum." 



Sc. IY. THE FAIR AXDRIAX. 25 

than clone; he will find some pretext for driving her away 
from the city. 

Pax. Driving her away ? 

Dav. Aye, and quickly too. 

Pam. Tell me then, Davus, what am I to do ? 

Dav. Say that yon will marry her. 

Pam. {starting.) Ha ! 

Dav. What's the matter ? 

Pam. What, am I to say so ? 

Dav. Why not? 

Pam. Never will I do it. 

Dav. Don't say no. 

Pam. Don't attempt to persuade me. 

Dav. Consider what will be the result of it. 

Pam. That I shall be deprived of the one, and fixed with 
the other. 

Dav. Not so. In fact, I think it will be thus: Your 
father will say: "I wish you to marry a wife to-day." Yju 
reply : " I'll marry her." Tell me, how can he raise a quarrel 
with you ? Thus you will cause all the plans which are now 
arranged by him to be disarranged, without any danger; for 
this is not to be doubted, that Chremes will not give you 
his daughter. Therefore do not hesitate in those measures 
which you are taking, on this account, lest he should change 
his sentiments. Tell your father that you consent ; so 
that although he may desire it, he may not be able to be 
angry at you with reason. Por that which you rely on, I will 
easily refute ; "No one," you think, "will give a wife to a person 
of these habits." But he will find a beggar for you. rather than 
allow you to be corrupted by a mistress. If, however, he shall 
believe that you bear it with a contented mind, you will render 
him indifferent ; at his leisure he will look out for another wife 
for you ; in the meantime something lucky may turn up. 
Pam. Do you think so ? 
Dav. It really is not a matter of doubt. 
Pam. Consider to what you are persuading me. 
Dav. Nay, but do be quiet. 

Pam. Well, I'll say it ; but, that he mayn't come to know 
that she has had a child by me, is a thing to be guarded 
against ; for I have promised to bring it up. 
Dav. 0, piece of effrontery ! 



26 andeia ; Act II. 

Pam. She entreated me that I would give her this pledge, 
by which she might be sure she should not be deserted. 

Day. It shall be attended to ; but your father's coming. 
Take care that he doesn't perceive that you are out of spirits. 

Scene V. 

Enter S;dio, at a distance. 

Sim. {apart to himself.) I've come back to see what they 
are about, or what scheme they are hatching. 

Dav. (to Pamphilus.) He has no doubt at present but that 
you'll refuse to marry. Having considered his course, he's 
come from a retired spot somewhere or other ; he hopes that 
he has framed a speech by which to disconcert you ; do you 
take care, then, to be yourself. 

Pam. If I am only able, Davus. 

Dav. Trust me for that, Pamphilus, I tell you ; your father 
will never this day exchange a single word with you, if you 
say that you will marry. 

SCEXE VI. 

Enter Byrrhia, unperceived, at a distance behind Simo. 

Bye. (apart to himself.) My master has ordered me, leaving 
my business, to keep an eye on Pamphilus to-day, what he 
is doing with regard to the marriage. I was to learn it ; for 
that reason, I have now followed him 1 (pointing to Simo) as 

1 / have now followed Mm) — Yer. 414. "Hunc venientem sequor." 
Cook has the following remark on this line : " This verse, though in 
every edition, as Bent-ley judiciously observes, is certainly spurious; for 
as Pamphilus has not disappeared since Byrrhia left the stage, he could 
not say 'nunc hunc venientem sequor.' If we suppose the line 
genuine, we must at the same time suppose Terence guilty of a monstrous 
absurdity." On these words Colman makes the following just obser- 
vations : " Other Commentators have also stumbled at this passage ; but 
if in the words 'followed him hither,' we suppose 'him' (hunc) to refer 
to Simo. the difficulty is removed ; and that the pronoun really does 
signify Simo, is evident from the circumstance of Pamphilus never 
having left the stage since the disappearance of Byrrhia. Simo is also 
represented as coming on the stage homewards, so that Byrrhia might 
easily have followed him along the street ; and it is evident that Byrrhia 
does not allude to Pamphilus from the agreeable surprise which he 
expresses on seeing him there so opportunely for the purpose." 



Sc. VI. THE FAIR ANDEIAK. 27 

he came hither. Himself, as well, I see standing with Davus 
close at hand; I'll note this. 

Sim. {apart to himself.) I see that both of them are here. 

Dav. (in a low voice to Pamphilus.) Now then ; be on 
your guard. 

Sim. Pamphilus! 

Day. (in a low voice.) Look round at him as though 
taken unawares. 

Pam. (turning round sharply.) What, my father! 

Dav. (in a low voice.) Capital ! 

Sim. I wish you to marry a wife to-day, as I was 
saying. 

Byr. (apart) Now I'm in dread for our side, as to what 
he will answer. 

Pam. Neither in that nor in anything else shall you ever 
find any hesitation in me. 

Byr. (apart.) Hah! 

Dav. (in a low voice to Pamphilus.) He is struck dumb. 

Byr. (apart) What a speech ! 

Sim. You act as becomes you, when that which I ask I 
obtain with a good grace. 

Dav. (aside to Pamphilus.) Am I right? 

Byr. Sly master, so far as I learn, has missed his wife'. 

Sim. Now, then, go in-doors, that you mayn't be causing 
delay when you are wanted. 

Pam. I'll go. (Goes into the house) 

Byr. (apart) Is there, in no case, putting trust in any 
man? That is a true proverb which is wont to be commonly 
quoted, that " all had rather it to be well for themselves than 
for another." I remember noticing, when I saw her, that she 
was a young woman of handsome figure \ wherefore I am the 
more disposed to excuse Pamphilus, if he has preferred that 
he himself, rather than the other, should embrace her in his 
slumbers. I'll carry back these tidings, that, in return for 
this evil he may inflict evil upon me. 1 (Exit. 



1 Inflict evil upon me) — Yer. 431. "Malum;" the usual name by 
which slaves spoke of the beatings they were in the habit of receiving at 
the hands or by the order of their irascible masters. Colmau has 
the following remarks : " Donatus observes on this Scene between 
Byrrhia. Sinio, Pamphilus. and Davus, that the dialogue is sustained 
by four persons, who have little or no intercourse with each other ; so 



28 andria ; Act IL, Sc. VII. 

Scene VII. 
Simo and Davus. 

Dav. {aside, coming away from the door of the house!) He 
now supposes that I'm bringing some trick to bear against 
him, and that on that account I've have remained here. 

Sim. What does he say, Davus ? l 

Dav. Just as much as nothing. 2 

Sim. What, nothing ? Eh ? 

Dav. Nothing at all. 

Sim. And yet I certainly was expecting something. 

Dav. It has turned out contrary to your expectations. 
{Aside.) I perceive it ; this vexes the man. 

Sim. Are you able to tell me the truth ? 

Dav. I ? Nothing more easy. 

Sim. Is this marriage at all disagreeable to him, on account 
of his intimacy with this foreign woman ? 

Dav. No, faith ; or if at all, it is a two or three days' 
annoyance this — you understand. It will then cease. More- 
over, he himself has thought over this matter in a proper way. 

Sim. I commend him. 

that the Scene is not only in direct contradiction to the precept of Horace, 
excluding a fourth person, but is also otherwise vicious in its construc- 
tion. Scenes of this kind are, I think, much too frequent in Terence, 
though, indeed, the form of the ancient Theatre was more adapted to 
the representation of them than the modern. The multiplicity of 
speeches aside is also the chief error in this dialogue ; such speeches, 
though very common in dramatic writers, ancient and modern, being 
always more or less unnatural." 

1 What does he say, Davus?) — Yer. 434. " Quid, Dave, narrat ?'' 
This reading Yollbehr suggests in place of the old one, " Quid Davus 
narrat?" and upon good grounds, as it appears. According to the 
latter reading we are to suppose that Davus is grumbling to himself, 
on which Simo says, " What does Davus say V It seems, however, 
much more likely that Davus accompanies Pamphilus to the door, and 
speaks to him before he goes in, and then, on his return to Simo, the 
latter asks him, " What does he say, Davus V 

2 Just as much as nothing) — Ver. 434. " iEque quidquam nunc 
quidem." This is a circumlocution for " nothing at all:" somewhat 
more literally perhaps, it might be rendered "just as much as before." 
Perizonius supplies the ellipsis with a long string of Latin words, which 
translated would mean, " Now, indeed, he says equally as much as he 
says then, when he says nothing at all." 



Act ILL, Sc. I. THE FAIR ANDKIAN". 29 

Dav. "While it was allowed him, and while his years 
prompted him, he intrigued ; even then it was secretly. He 
took precaution that that circumstance should never be a 
cause of disgrace to him, as behoves a man of principle ; now 
that he must have a wife, he has set his mind upon a wife. 

Sim. He seemed to me to be somewhat melancholy in a 
slight degree. 

Dav. Not at all on account of her, but there's something 
he blames you for. 

Sim. What is it, pray ? 

Dav. It's a childish thing. 

Sim. What is it ? 

Dav. Nothing at all. 

Sim. Nay but, tell me what it is. 

Dav. He says that you are making too sparing preparations. 

Sim. What, I? 

Dav. You. — He says that there has hardly been fare pro- 
vided to the amount of ten drachmae. 1 — " Does he seem to 
be bestowing a wife on his son ? Which one now, in prefer- 
ence, of my companions shall I invite to the dinner ? " And, 
it must be owned, you really are providing too parsimoniously 
—I do not commend you. 

Sim. Hold your tongue. 

Dav. {aside?) I've touched him up. 

Sim. I'll see that these things are properly done. (Davus 
goes into the house.) What's the meaning of this ? What 
does this old rogue mean ? But if there's any knavery 
here, why, he's sure to be the source of the mischief. {Goes 
into his house.) 

ACT THE THIRD. 

Scene I. 

Enter Simo and Davus from the house of the former. Mysis 
and Lesbia are coming towards the house of Glycereum. 

Mys. {not seeing Simo and Davus.) Upon my faith, the 
fact is really as you mentioned, Lesbia, you can hardly find 
a man constant to a woman. 

1 Amount of ten drachmce) — Yer. 451. The Attic drachma was a 
silver coin worth in value about 9$ d. of English money. 



30 andria ; Act III. 

Sim. {apart to Davus.) This maid-servant comes from the 
Anclrian. 

Dav. {apart to Simo.) What do you say ? 

Sim. {apart to Davus.) It is so. 

Mys. But this Pamphilus 

Sim. {apart to Davus.) What. is she saying ? 

Mys. Has proved his constancy. 

Sim. {apart.) Hah ! 

Dav. {apart to himself.) I wish that either he were deaf, 
or she struck dumb. 

Mys. For the child she brings forth, he has ordered to 
be brought up. 

Sim. {apart.) O Jupiter ! What do I hear ! It's all over, 
if indeed this woman speaks the truth. 

Les. You mention a good disposition on the part of the 
young man. 

Mys. A most excellent one. But follow me in-doors, that 
you mayn't keep her waiting. 

Les. I'll follow. (Mysis and Lesbia go into Glycerium's 
house.) 

Scene II. 

Simo and Davus. 

Dav. {aside.) What remedy now shall I find for this 
mishap ? 

Sim. {to himself aloud) What does this mean ? Is he so 
infatuated ? The child of a foreign woman ? Now I under- 
stand ; ah ! scarcely even at last, in my stupidity, have I 
found it out. 

Dav. {aside to himself) What does he say he has found out ? 

Sim. {aside.) This piece of knavery is being now for the 
first time palmed upon me by this fellow ; they are pre- 
tending that she's in labour, in order that they may alarm 
Ohremes. 

Gly. {exclaiming from within her house) Juno Lucina, 1 
grant me thine aid, save me, I do entreat thee ! 

Sim. Whew ! so sudden ? What nonsense ! As soon 

1 Juno Lucina) — Yer. 473. Juno Lucina had the care of women in 
childbed. Under this name some suppose Diana to have been wor- 
shipped. A similar incident to the present is found in the Adelphi, 
1. 486; and in the Aulularia of Plautus, 1. 646. 



Sc. IY. THE FAIR AXDRIAX. 31 

as she has heard that I'm standing before the door, she 
makes all haste. These incidents, Davus, have not been quite 
happily adapted by you as to the points of time. 

Dav. By me ? 

Sim. Are your scholars forgetful ? * 

Dav. I don't know what you are talking about. 

Sim. {aside.) If he at the real marriage of my son had 
taken me off my guard, what sport he would have made 
of me. Now it is at his own risk ; I'm sailing in harbour. 

Scene III. 

He-enter Ijesbia fro7?i the house of Glycerium. 

Les. {speaking to Archylis at the door, and not seeing Simo 
and Davus.) As yet, Archylis, all the customary symptoms 
which ought to exist towards recovery, I perceive in her. 
Now, in the first place, take care and let her bathe; 2 then, 
after that, what I ordered to be given her to drink, and 
as much as I prescribed, do you administer : presently I 
v will return hither. {To herself aloud.) By all that's holy, 
a fine boy has been born to Pamphilus. I pray the Gods 
that he may survive, since the father himself is of a good 
disposition, and since he has hesitated to do an injustice to 
this most excellent young woman. (Exit. 

Scene IY. 
Simo and Davus. 

Sim. Even this, who is there that knows you that would 
not believe that it originated in you ? 

Dav. Why, what is this ? 

Sim. She did'nt order in their presence what was requisite 
to be done for the woman lying in ; but after she has come 
out, she bawls from the street to those who are in the house. O 
Davus, am I thus trifled with by you ? Or pray, do I seem 

1 Are your scholars forgetful ?) — Ter. 477. He alludes under this 
term to Mysis, Lesbia, and Pamphilus, whom he supposes Davus to have 
been training to act their parts in the plot against him. 

2 Let her bathe) — Ter. 4S3. It was the custom for women to bathe 
immediately after childbirth. See the Amphitryon of Plautus, 1. 669, 
and the ]S"ote to the passage in Bonn's Translation. 



32 andria; Act III. 

to yon so very well suited to be thus openly imposed upon 
by your tricks? At all events it should have teen with 
precaution ; that at least I might have seemed jbo be feared, 
if I should detect it. 

Dav. (aside.) Assuredly, upon my faith, it's he that's now 
deceiving himself, not I. 

Sim. I gave you warning, I forbade you with threats to 
do it. Have you been awed? What has it availed? Am I 
to believe you now in this, that this woman has had a child 
by Pamphilus? 

Dav. (aside.) I understand where he's mistaken; and I see 
what I must do. 

Sim. Why are you silent? 

Dav. What would you believe? As though word nad not 
been brought you that thus it would happen. 

Sim. Any ivord or ought to me ? 

Dav. Come now, did you of your own accord perceive 
that this was counterfeited? 

Sim. I am being trifled with. 

Dav. Word has been brought you; for otherwise how 
could this suspicion have occurred to you? 

Sim. How? Because I knew you. 

Dav. As though you meant to say that this has been done 
by my contrivance. 

Sim. Why, I'm sure of it, to a certainty. 

Dav. Not yet even do you know me sufficiently, Simo, 
what sort of person I am. 

Sim. I, not know you! 

Dav. But if I begin to tell you anything, at once you 
think that deceit is being practised upon you in guile ; there- 
fore, upon my faith, I don't dare now even to whisper. 

Sim. This one thing I am sure of, that no person has been 
delivered here. (Pointing to Glycerium's house?) 

Dav. You have discovered that? Still, not a bit the less 
will they presently be laying the child 1 here before the door. 
Of this, then, I now warn you, master, that it will hapj>en, 

1 Be laying the child) — Yer. 507. Colman has the following remark 
on this line : — " The art of this passage is equal to the pleasantry, for 
though Davus runs into this detail merely with a view to dupe the old 
man still further by flattering him on his fancied sagacity, yet it very 
naturally prepares us for an incident which, by another turn of circum- 
stances, afterwards becomes necessary." 



*Sc. IV. THE FAIR AXDRIAN. 33 

that you may be aware of it. Don't you hereafter be saying 
that this was done through the advice or artifices of Darns. 
I wish this suspicion of yours to be entirely removed from 
myself. 

Sim. How do you know that ? 

Dav. I've heard so, and I believe it : many things combine 
for me to form this conjecture. In the first place then, she 
declared that she was pregnant by Pamphilus ; that has been 
proved to be false. 1 Now, when she sees that preparations 
are being made for the wedding at our house, the maid-servant 
is directly sent to fetch the midwife to her, and to bring a 
child at the same time. 2 Unless it is managed for you to see 
the child, the marriage will not be at all impeded. 

Sim. What do you say to this? When you perceived that 
they were adopting this plan, why didn't you tell Pamphilus 
immediately ? 

Dav. Why, who has induced him to leave her, but myself ? 
For, indeed, we all know how desperately he loved her. Now 
he wishes for a wife. In fine, do you intrust me with that 
affair; proceed however, as before, to celebrate these nuptials, 
just as you are doing, and I trust that the Gods will prosper 
this matter. 

Sim. Very well ; be off in-doors ; wait for me there, and 
get ready what's necessary to be prepared. (Davus goes into 
tJieJwuse.) He hasn't prevailed upon me even now altogether 
to believe these things, and I don't know whether what he 
has said is all true ; but I deem it of little moment ; this is 
of far greater importance to me — that my son himself has 
jDromised me. Now I'll go and find Chremes; I'll ask hirn 
for a wife for my son ; if I obtain my request, at what other 
time rather than to-day should I prefer these nuptials taking 
place ? For as my son has promised, I have no doubt but that 
if he should prove unwilling, I can fairly compel him. And 
look ! here's Chremes himself, just at the very time. 

1 Proved to be false) — Yer. 513. That is, according to Simo's own 
notion, which Davus now thinks proper to humour. 

2 To bring a child at the same time) — Yer. 515. This is a piece of 
roguery which has probably been practised in all ages, and was somewhat 
commonly perpetrated in Greece. The reader of English history will 
remember how the unfortunate son of James II. was said, in the face of 
the strongest evidence to the contrary, to have been a supposititious 
child brought into the queen's chamber in a silver warming-pan. 

D 



34 andria; Act III. 

Scene V. 
Enter Chremes. 

Sim. I greet you, Chremes. 

Chrem. O, you axe the very person I was looking for. 

Sim. And I for you. 

Chrem. You meet me at a welcome moment. Some per- 
sons have been to me, to say that they had heard from you, 
that my daughter was to be married to your son to-day; I've 
come to see whether they are out of their, senses or you. 

Sim. Listen ; in a few words you shall learn both what I 
want of you, and what you seek to know. 

Chrem. I am listening; say what you wish. 

Sim. By the Gods, I do entreat you, Chremes, and by our 
friendship, which, commencing with our infancy, has grown 
up with our years, and by your only daughter and by my 
own son (of preserviiig whom the entire power lies with you), 
that you will assist me in this matter ; and that, just as this 
marriage was about to be celebrated, it may be celebrated. 

Chrem. O, don't importune me ; as though you needed to 
obtain this of me by entreaty. Do you suppose I am diffe- 
rent now from what I was formerly, when I promised her? 
If it is for the advantage of them both that it should take 
place, order her to be sent for. But if from this course there 
would result more harm than advantage for each, this I do 
beg of you, that you will consult for their common good, as 
though she were your own daughter, and I the father of 
Pamphilus. 

Sim. ISTay, so I intend, and so I wish it to be, Chremes ; 
and I would not ask it of you, did not the occasion itself 
require it. 

Chrem. What is the matter ? 

Sim. There is a quarrel between Glycerium and my son. 

Chrem. (ironically.) I hear you. 

Sim. So much so, that I'm in hopes they may be separated. 

Chrem. Nonsense! 

Sim. It really is so. 

Chrem. After this fashion, i' faith, I tell you, " the quarrels 
of lovers are the renewal of love." 



Sc. V. THE FAIR AXDRIAX. 35 

Sim. Well — this I beg of you, that we may prevent it. 
While an opportunity offers, and while his passion is cooled 
by affronts, before the wiles of these women and their tears, 
craftily feigned, bring back his love-sick mind to compassion, 
let us give him a wife. I trust, Chremes, that, when attached 
by intimacy and a respectable marriage, he will easily extricate 
himself from these evils. 

Chrem. So it appears to you ; but I do not think 1 that 
either he can possibly hold to her with constancy, or that I 
can put up with it if he does not. 

Sim. How then can you be sure of that, unless you make 
the experiment ? 

Chrem. But for that experiment to be made upon a 
daughter is a serious thins; 

Sim. Why look, all the inconvenience in fine amounts to 
this — possibly, which may the Gods forfend, a separation 
may take place. But if he is reformed, see how many are 
the advantages : in the first place, you will have restored a 
son to your friend ; you will obtain a sure son-in-law 2 for 
yourself, and a husband for your daughter. 

Chrem. What is one to say to all this ? If you feel per- 
suaded that this is beneficial, I don't wish that any advantage 
should be denied you. 

Sim. With good reason, Chremes, have I always considered 
you a most valuable friend. 

Chrem. But how say you p" 

Sim. What? 

Chrem. How do you know that they are now at variance ? 

Sim. Davus himself, who is privy to all their plans, has 
told me so ; and he advises me to expedite the match as fast 
as I can. Do you think he would do so, unless he was aware 
that my son desired it ? You yourself as well shall presently 
hear what he says. (Goes to the door of his house and calls.) 

1 But I do not think) — Ter. 563-4. "At ego non posse arbitror 
neque ilium banc perpetuo habere." Chrenies uses an ambiguous 
expression here, perhaps purposely. It may mean, " I do not think 
that he can possibly be constant to her," or, i( that she will continue to live 
with him." 

2 A sure son-in-law) — Ter. 571. By the use of the word "firmum," 
he means a son-in-law who will not be likely to resort to divorce or 
separation from his wife. 

D 2 



36 andria; Act III 

Hallo there ! Call Davus out here. Look, here he is ; I see 
him just coming out. 

Scene VI. 
Enter D avus from the liouse. 

Dav. I was coming to you. 

Sim. Why, what's the matter ? 

Dav. Why isn't the bride sent for? 1 It's now growing 
late in the day. 

Sim. Do you hear me? I've been for some time not a 
little apprehensive of you, Davus, lest you should do that 
which the common class of servants is in the habit of doing, 
namely, impose upon me by your artifices ; because my son 
is engaged in an amour. 

Dav. What, I do that ? 

Sim. I fancied so ; and therefore, fearing that, I concealed 
from you what I shall now mention. 

Dav. What? 

Sim. You shall know; for now I almost feel confidence 
in you. 

Dav. Have you found out at last what sort of a person 
I am ? 

Sim. The marriage was not to have taken place. 

Dav. How ? Not to have taken place ? 

Sim. But I was making pretence, that I might test you 
all. 

Dav. {affecting surprise.) What is it you tell me ? 

Sim. Such is the fact. 

Dav. Only see ! I was not able to discover that. Dear 
me ! what a cunning contrivance ! 

Sim. Listen to this. Just as I ordered you to go from 
here into the house, he {■pointing to Chkemes) most oppor- 
tunely met me. 

1 Why isn't the bride sent for ?) — Yer. 582. Among the Greeks the 
bride was conducted by the bridegroom at nightfall from her father's 
house, in a chariot drawn by a pair of mules or oxen, and escorted by 
persons carrying the nuptial torches. Among the Komans, she pro- 
ceeded in the evening to the bridegroom's house; preceded by a boy 
carrying a torch of white thorn, or, according to some, of pine-wood. 
To this custom reference is indirectly made in the present passage. 



Sc. YII. THE FAIR AXDRIAN. 37 

Dav. {aside.) Ha! Are we undone, then ? 

Sim. I told him what you just now told me. 

Dav. {aside.) Why, what am I to hear ? 

Sim. I begged him to give his daughter, and with difficulty 
I prevailed upon him. 

Dav. {aside.) Utterly ruined ! 

Sim. {overhearing him speaking.) Eh — What was it you 
said ? 

Dav. Extremely well done, I say. 

Sim. There's no delay on his part now. 

Chrem. I'll go home at once ; I'll tell her to make due 
preparation, and bring back word here. (Exit. 

Sim. Now I do entreat you, Davus, since you by yourself 
have brought about this marriage for me 

Dav. I myself, indeed ! l 

Sim. Do your best still to reform my son. 

Dav. Troth, I'll do it with all due care. 

Sim. Do it now, while his mind is agitated. 

Dav. You may be at ease. 

Sim. Come then ; where is he just now ? 

Dav. A wonder if he isn't at home. 

Sim. I'll go to him ; and what I've been telling you, I'll 
tell him as well. {Goes into his house.) 

Scene YII. 

Davus alone. 

Dav. {to himself.) I'm a lost man ! What reason is there 
why I should'nt take my departure straightway hence for the 
mill ? There's no room left for supplicating ; I've upset every- 
thing now ; I've deceived my master ; I've plunged my master's 
son into a marriage ; I've been the cause of its taking place 
this very day, without his hoping for it, and against the wish 
of Pamphilus. Here's cleverness for you! But, if I had kept 
myself quiet, no mischief would have happened. {Starting.) 
But see, I espy him ; I'm utterly undone ! Would that there 
were some spot here for me, from which I might this instant 
pitch myself headlong ! {Stands apart.) 

1 I myself , indeed !) — Yer. 597. 2s"o doubt Davus says these words 
in sorrow and regret; Simo, however, supposes them to be uttered in 
exultation at the apparent success of his plans. Consequently " vero * 
is intended by Davus to have the sense here of "too truly." 



38 akdria ; Act III., Sc. VIII. 

Scene VIII. 
Enter Pamphilus in haste from Simo's house. 

Pam. Where is he? The villain, who this day I'm 

ruined ; and I confess that this has justly befallen me, for 
being such a dolt, so devoid of sense; that I should have 
entrusted my fortunes to a frivolous slave! 1 I am suffering 
the reward of my folly ; still he shall never get off from me 
unpunished for this. 

Dav. (apart.) I'm quite sure that I shall be safe in future, 
if for the present I get clear of this mishap. 

Pam. But what now am I to say to my father? Am I to 
deny that I am ready, who have just promised to marry? 
With what effrontery could I presume to do that ? I know 
not what to do with myself. 

Dav. (apart. ), Nor I with myself, and yet I'm giving all 
due attention to it. I'll tell him that I will devise something, 
in order that I may procure some respite in this dilemma. 

Pam. (catching sight of him.) Oho! 

Dav. (apart.) I'm seen. 

Pam. (sneeringly). How now, good sir, what are you about ? 
Do you see how dreadfully I am hampered by your devices ? 

Dav. Still, J'll soon extricate you. 

Pam. YoUj extricate me? 

Dav. Assuredly, Pamphilus. 

Pam. As you have just done, I suppose. 

Dav. Why no, better, I trust. 

Pam. What, am I to believe you, you scoundrel? 2 You, 
indeed, make good a matter that's all embarrassment and 

1 To a frivolous slave) — Ver. 610. "Servo futili." According to the 
Scholiast on the Thebais of Statius, B. viii. 1. 297, " vas futile " was a 
kind of vessel with a broad mouth and narrow bottom, used in the rites 
of Vesta. It was made of that peculiar shape in order that the priest 
should be obliged to hold it during the sacrifices, and might not set it 
on the ground, which was considered profane ; as, if set there, the con- 
tents must necessarily fall out. From this circumstance, men who 
could not contain a secret were sometimes called " futiles." . 

2 You scoundrel) — Ver. 619. "Furcifer;" literally, wearer of the 
" furca," or wooden collar. This method of punishment has been referred 
to in the Notes to the Translation of Plautus. 



Act. IV., Sc. I. THE FAIR ANDRIAX. 39 

ruin! Just see, in whom I've been placing reliance, — you who 
this day from a most happy state have been and plunged me 
into a marriage. Didn't I say that this would be the case ? 

Dav. You did say so. 

Pam. What do you deserve? 1 

Dav. The cross. 2 But allow me a little time to recover 
myself; I'll soon hit upon something. 

Pa3I. Ah me! not to have the leisure to inflict punishment 
upon you as I desire! for the present conjuncture warns me 
to take precautions for myself, not to be taking vengeance on 
you. {Exeunt. 



ACT THE FOUKTH. 

Scene I. 

Enter Chaeixus, wringing Ms hands. 

Char, (to himself.) Is this to be believed or spoken of; 
that malice so great could be inborn in any one as to exult 
at misfortunes, and to derive advantage from the distresses 
of another! Oh, is this true? Assuredly, that is the most 
dangerous class of men, in whom there is only a slight de- 
gree of hesitation at refusing ; afterwards, when the time 
arrives for fulfilling their promises, then, obliged, of necessity 
they discover themselves. They are afraid, and yet the 
circumstances 3 compel them to refuse. Then, in that case, 
their very insolent remark is, u Who are you ? What are 
you to me? Why should I give up to you what's my own? 

1 What do you deserve?) — Ver. 622. Madame Dacier remarks that 
this question is taken from the custom of the Athenians, who never 
condemned a criminal without first asking him what punishment he 
thought he deserved ; and according to the nature of his answer they 
mitigated or increased his punishment. The Commentators quote a 
similar passage from the Frogs of Aristophanes. 

2 The cross) — Ver. 622. The "cross," " crux," as a punishment for 
refractory slaves has been remarked upon in the Notes to the Transla- 
tion of Plautus. 

3 The circumstances) — Yer. 635. "Kes." According, however, to 
Donatus, this word has the meaning here of " malice " or " spite- 
fulness." 



40 andria; Act IV. 

Look you, I am the most concerned in my own interests." 1 
But if you enquire where is honor, they are not ashamed. 2 
Here, where there is occasion, they are not afraid ; there, 
where there is no occasion, they are afraid. But what am I 
to do? Ought I not to go to him, and reason with him 
upon this outrage, and heap many an invective upon Mm? 
Yet some one may say, " you will avail nothing." Nothing? 
At least I shall have vexed him, and have given vent to my 
own feelings. 

Scene II. 
Enter Pamphilus and Davits. 

Pam. Charinus, unintentionally I have ruined both myself 
and you, unless the G-ods in some way befriend us. 

Char. Unintentionally, is it ! An excuse has been dis- 
covered at last. You have broken your word. 

Pam. How so, pray ? 

Char. Do you expect to deceive me a second time by 
these speeches ? 

Pam. What does this mean ? 

Char. Since I told you that I loved her, she has become 
quite pleasing to you. Ah wretched me ! to have judged of 
your disposition from my own. 

Pam. You are mistaken. 

Char. Did this pleasure appear to you not to be quite com- 
plete, unless you tantalized me in my passion, and lured me 
on by groundless hopes ? — You may take her. 

Pam. I, take her? Alas! you know not in what per- 
plexities, to my sorrow,' I am involved, and what vast anxie- 
ties this executioner of mine (pointing to Davus) has con- 
trived for me by his devices. 

Char. What is it so wonderful, if he takes example from 
yourself ? 

1 Concerned in my own interests) — Yer. 637. Equivalent to our 
sayings, " Charity begins at home ;" " Take care of number one.'*' 

2 They are not ashamed) — Yer. 638. Terence has probably borrowed 
this remark from the Epidicus of Plautus, 1. 165-6: " Generally all 
men are ashamed when it is of no use ; when they ought to be ashamed, 
then does shame forsake them, when occasion is for them to be 
ashamed.' ' 



Sc. TL THE FAIR ANDRIAN. 41 

Pam. You would not say that if you understood either 
myself or my affection. 

Char. I'm quite aware (ironically) ; you have just now had 
a dispute with your father, and he is now angry with you in 
consequence, and has not been able to-day to prevail upon 
you to marry her. 

Pam. No, not at all, — as you are not acquainted with my 
sorrows, these nuptials were not in preparation for me; and 
no one was thinking at present of giving me a wife. 

Char. I am aware ; you have been influenced by your own 
inclination. 

Pam. Hold ; you do not yet know all. 

Char. For my part, I certainly do know that you are 
about to marry her. 

Pam. Why are you torturing me to death ? Listen to 
this. He (pointing to Davus) never ceased to urge me to 
tell my father that I would marry her ; to advise and per- 
suade me, even until he compelled me. 

Char. Who was this person ? 

Pam. Davus. 

Char. Davus ! For what reason ? 

Pam. I don't know j except that I must have been under 
the displeasure of the Gods, for me to have listened to him. 

Char. Is this the fact, Davus ? 

Dav. It is the fact. 

Char, (starting?) Ha! What do you say, you villain? 
Then may the Gods send you an end worthy of your deeds. 
Come now, tell me, if all his enemies had wished him to 
be plunged into a marriage, what advice but this could they 
have given? 

Dav. I have been deceived, but I don't despair. 

Char, (ironically?) I'm sure of that. 

Dav. This way it has not succeeded; we'll try another. 
Unless, perhaps, you think that because it failed at first, this 
misfortune cannot now possibly be changed for better luck. 

Pam. Certainly not ; for I quite believe that if you set 
about it, you will be making two marriages for me out of one. 

Dav. I owe you this, Pamphilus, in respect of my servi- 
tude, to strive with hands and feet, night and day ; to sub- 
mit to hazard of my life, to serve you. It is your part, if 
anything has fallen out contrary to expectation, to forgive 



42 akdpja; Act IV. 

me. "What I was contriving has not succeeded ; still, I am 
using all endeavours ; or, do you yourself devise something 
better, and dismiss me. 

Pam. I wish to ; restore me to the position in which you 
found me. 

Dav. I'll doss. 

Pam. But it must be done directly. 

Dav. But the door of Gly cerium's house here makes a noise. 1 

Pam. That's nothing to you. 

Dav. {assuming an attitude of meditation.) I'm in search 
of 

Pam. (ironically?) Dear me, what, now at last ? 

Dav. Presently I'll give you what I've hit upon. 



Scene III. 
Enter Mysis from the house of Glycerium. 

Mys. (calling at the door to Glycerium within.) Now, 
wherever he is, I'll take care that your own Pamphilus 
shall be found for you, and brought to you by me ; do you 
only, my life, cease to vex yourself. 

Pam. Mysis. 

Mys. (turning roimd.) Who is it ? Why, Pamphilus, 
you do present yourself opportunely to me. My mistress 
charged me to beg of you, if you love her, to come to her 
directly ; she says she wishes to see you. 

Pam. (aside.) Alas ! I am undone ; this dilemma grows 
apace ! (To Davits.) For me and her, unfortunate persons, 
now to be tortured this way through your means ; for I am 
sent for, because she has discovered that my marriage is in 
preparation. 

1 Makes a noise) — Yer. 683. The doors with the Komans opened 
inwardly, while those of the Greeks opened on the outside. It was 
therefore usual with them, when coming out, to strike the door on 
the inside with a stick or with the knuckles, that those outside might 
be warned to get out of the way. Patrick, however, observes with some 
justice, that the word "concrepuit " may here allude to the creaking of 
the hinges. See the Curculio of Plautus, 1. 160, where the Procuress 
pours water on the hinges, in order that Cappadox may not hear the 
opening of the door. 



Sc. III. THE FAIR ANDRIAN. 43 

Char. From which, indeed, how easily 'a respite coiild have 
been obtained, if he (pointing ioT) avus) had kept himself quiet. 

Dav. (ironically to Chardots.) Do proceed ; if he isn't 
sufficiently angry of his own accord, do you irritate him. 

Mys. (to Pamphilus.) Aye faith, that is the case ; and for 
that reason, poor thing, she is now in distress. 

Pam. Mysis, I swear by all the Gods that I will never 
forsake her ; not if I were to know that all men would be 
my enemies in consequence. Her have I chosen for mine ; 
she has fallen to my lot ; our feelings are congenial ; farewell 
they, who wish for a separation between us ; nothing but 
Death separates her from me. 

Mys. I begin to revive. 

Pam. Not the responses of Apollo are more true than 
this. If it can possibly be contrived that my father may not 
believe that this marriage has been broken off through me, I 
could wish it. But if that cannot be, I will do that which 
is easily effected, for him to believe that through me it has 
been caused. What do you think of me ? 

Char. That you are as unhappy as myself. 

Dav. (placing his finger on his forehead.) I'm contriving 
an expedient. 

Char. You are a clever hand ; if you do set about anything. 

Dav. Assuredly, I'll manage this for you. 

Pam. There's need of it now. 

Dav. But I've got it now. 

Char. What is it ? 

Dav. For him (pointing to Pamphilus) I've got it, not for 
you, don't mistake. 

Char. I'm quite satisfied. 

Pam. What will you do ? Tell me. 

Dav. I'm afraid that this day won't be long enough for me 
to execute it, so don't suppose that I've now got leisure for 
relating it ; do you betake yourself off at once, for you are a 
hindrance to me. 

Pam. I'll go and see her. ( Goes into the house of Glycerium.) 

Dav. (to Charinus.) What are you going to do ? Whither 
are you going from here ? 

Char. Do you wish me to tell you the truth ? 

Dav. No, not at all; (aside) he's making the beginning 
of a long story for me. 



44 andria; Act IY. 

Char. What will become of nie ? 

Dav. Come now, you unreasonable person, are you not 
satisfied that I give you a little respite, by putting off his 
marriage ? 

Char. But yet, Davus 

Day. "What then ? 

Char. That I may marry her 

Dav. Absurd. 

Char. Be sure to come hither {pointing in the direction of 
Jtis house) to my house, if you can effect anything. 

Dav. Why should I come ? I can do nothing for you. 

Char. But still, if anything 

Dav. Well, well, I'll come. 

Char. If you can ; I shall be at home. {Exit. 

Scene IY. 
Mysis and Davus. 

Dav. Do you, Mysis, remain here a little while, until I 
come out. 

Mys. For what reason ? 

Dav. There's a necessity for so doing. 

Mys. Make haste. 

Dav. I'll be here this moment, I tell you. {He goes into 
the house of Glycerium.) 

Scene Y. 
Mysis alone. 

Mys. {to herself.) That nothing can be secure to any one ! 
Ye Gods, by our trust in you ! I used to make sure that 
this Pamphilus was a supreme blessing for my mistress ; a 
friend, a protector, a husband secured under every circum- 
stance ; yet what anguish is she, poor thing, now suffering 
through him ? Clearly there's more trouble for her now than 
there was happiness formerly. But Davus is coming out. 

Scene YI. 

Enter Davus from the house of Glycerium with the vhild. 

Mys. My good sir, prithee, what is that ? Whither are 
you carrying the child ? 



Sc. VL THE FAIR ADRIAN. 45 

Day. Mysis, I now stand in need of your cunning being 
brought into play in this matter, and of your address. 

Mys. Why, what are you going to do ? 

Day. {holding out ike child.) Take it from me directly, 
and lay it down before our door. 

Mys. Prithee, on the ground ? 

Day. (pointing) Take some sacred herbs 1 from the altar 
here, 2 and strew them under it. 

Mys. Why don't you do it yourself? 

Day. That if perchance I should haye to swear to my 
master that I did not place it there, I may be enabled to do 
•so with a clear conscience. 

Mys. I understand • haye these new scruples only just 
now occurred to you, pray ? 

Day. Bestir yourself quickly, that you may learn what 
I'm going to do next. (Mysis lays the child at Smo's door.) 
Oh Jupiter ! 

Mys. (starting up.) "What's the matter ? 

Day. The father of the intended bride is coming in the 
middle of it all. The plan which I had first purposed I now 
giye up. 3 

Mys. I don't understand what you are talking about. 

Day. I'll pretend too that Pve come in this direction 
from the right. Do you take care to help out the conversa- 
tion by your words, whenever there's necessity. 4 

1 Tale some sacred herbs) — Ver. 727. "Verbena" appears to have 
been a general term applied to any kind of herb used in honor of the 
Deities, or to the boughs and leaves of any tree gathered from a pure or 
sacred place. Fresh kf verbenas" were placed upon the altars every day. 
See the Mercator of Plautus, 1. 672. 

- From the altar here) — Ver. 727. It was usual to have altars on the 
stage ; when Comedy was performed, one on the left hand in honor of 
Apollo, and on the representation of Tragedy, one on the right in 
honor of Bacchus. It has been suggested that Terence here alludes 
to the former of these. As, however, at Athens almost every house had 
its own altar in honor of Apollo Prostaterius just outside of the street- 
door, it is most probable that to one of these altars reference is here 
made. They are frequently alluded to in the Plays of Plautus. 

3 Which I had first purposed, 1 now give up) — Ver. 734. His first 
intention no doubt was to go and inform Simo of the child being laid 
at the door. 

4 Whenever there's necessity)— Yer. 737. He retires without fully 
explaining his intention to Mysis : consequently, in the next Scene she 
gives an answer to Chremes which Davos does not intend. 



46 andria; Act IY. 

Mys. I don't at all comprehend what you are about; but 
if there's anything in which you have need of my assistance, 
as you understand the best, I'll stay, that I mayn't in any 
way impede your success. (Davus retires out of sight.) 

Scene VII. 

Enter Chremes on the other side of the stage, going towards 
the house of Simo. 

Chrem. (to himself.) After having provided the things 
necessary for my daughter's nuptials, I'm returning, that I 
may request her to be sent for. (Seeing the child.) But 
what's this? I'faith, it's a child. (Addressing Mysis.) 
Woman, have you laid that here (pointing to the child) ? 

Mys. (aside, looking out for Davus.) Where is he ? 

Chrem. Don't you answer me ? 

Mys. (looking about, to herself ) He isn't anywhere to be 
seen. Woe to wretched me! the fellow has left me and is off. 

Dav. (coming forward and pretending not to see them.) 
Ye Gods, by our trust in you ! what a crowd there is in 
the Forum! What a lot of people are squabbling there! 
(Aloud.) Then provisions are so dear. (Aside.) What to say 
besides, I don't know. (Chremes passes by Mysis, and goes 
to a distance at the back of the stage.) 

Mys. Pray, why did you leave me here alone ? 

Dav. (pretending to start on seeing the child.) Ha ! what 
story is this ? How now, Mysis, whence comes this child ? 
Who has brought it here ? 

Mys. Are you quite right in your senses, to be asking me 
that ? 

Dav. Whom, then, ought I to ask, as I don't see any one 
else here ? 

Chrem. (apart to himself) I wonder whence it has come. 

Dav. Are you going to tell me what I ask ? 

Mys. Pshaw! 

Dav. (in a whisper.) Step aside to the right. (They retire- 
on one side) 

Mys. You are out of your senses; didn't you your own self? 

Dav. (in a loio voice.) Take you care not to utter a single 
word beyond what I ask you. Why don't you say aloud 
whence it comes ? 

Mys. (in a loud voice) From our house. 



Sc. VII. THE FAIR ADRIAN. 47 

Day. {affecting indignation) Heyday, indeed! it really is 
a wonder if a woman, who is a courtesan, acts impu- 
dently. 

Chrem. {apart.) So far as I can learn, this woman belongs 
to the Andrian. 

Day. Do we seem to you such very suitable persons for 
you to be playing tricks with us in this way ? 

Chrem. {apart.) I came just in time. 

Day. Make haste then, and take the child away from the 
door here: {in a low voice) stay there ; take care you don't 
stir from that spot. 

Mys. {aside.) May the Gods confound you! you do so terrify 
poor me. 

Day. {in a loud voice.) Is it to you I speak or not ? 

Mys. What is it you want ? 

Day. {aloud.) What — do you ask me again? Tell me, 
whose child have you been laying here ? Let me know. 

Mys. Don't you know ? 

Day. {in a low voice) Have done with what I know; tell 
me what I ask. 

Mys. {aloud.) It belongs to your people. 

Day. {aloud.) Which of our people ? 

Mys. {aloud.) To Pamphilus. 

Day. {affecting surprise in a loud tone ) How ? What — 
to Pamphilus ? 

Mys. {aloud) How now — is it not so? 

Chrem. {apart) With good reason have I always been 
averse to this match, it's clear. 

Day. {calling aloud.) O abominable piece of effrontery! 

Mys. Why are you bawling out so ? 

Day. {aloud) What, the very one I saw being carried to 
your house yesterday evening ? 

Mys. O you impudent fellow ! 

Day. {aloud) It's the truth. I saw Canthara stuffed out 
beneath her clothes. 1 

Mys. I'faith, I thank the Gods that several free women 
were present 2 at the delivery. 

1 Stuffed outheneath her clothes) — Ver. 771. " Suffarcinatam. " He 
alludes to the trick already referred to as common among the Greeks, of 
the nurses and midwives secretly introducing supposititious children ; 
see 1. 515 and the 2s"ote. 

2 Several free women were present) — Yer. 772. She speaks of 



48 andria; Act IV. 

Dav. {aloud.) Assuredly she doesn't know him, on whose 
account she resorts to these schemes. Chremes, she fancies, 
if he sees the child laid before the door, will not give his 
daughter \ i'faith, hell give her all the sooner. 

Chrem. {apart.) I'faith, he'll not do so. 

Dav. {aloud.) Now therefore, that you may be quite aware, 
if you don't take up the child, I'll roll it forthwith into the 
middle of the road ; and yourself in the same place I'll roll 
over into the mud. 

Mys. Upon my word, man, you are not sober. 

Dav. {aloud) One scheme brings on another. I now hear 
it whispered about that she is a citizen of Attica 

Chrem. {apart.) Ha! 

Dav. {aloud.) And that, constrained by the laws, 1 he will 
have to take her as his wife. 

Mys. Well now, pray, is she not a citizen ? 

Chrem. {apart.) I had almost fallen unawares into a comical 
misfortune. {Comes forward.) 

Dav. Who's that, speaking ? {Pretending to look about!) 
O Chremes, you have come in good time. Do listen to this. 

Chrem. I have heard it all already. 

Dav. Prithee, did you hear it ? Here's villany for you ! 
she {pointing at Mysis) ought to be carried off 2 hence to the 
torture forthwith. {To Mysis, pointing at Chremes.) This is 
Chremes himself ; don't suppose that you are trifling with 
Davus only. 

Mys. Wretched me! upon my faith I have told no untruth, 
my worthy old gentleman. 

Chrem. I know the whole affair. Is Simo within ? 

Dav. He is. (Chremes goes into Simo's house) 

" liberie," " free women/' because in Greece as well as Italy slaves were 
not permitted to give evidence. See the Curculio of Plautus, 1. 621, 
and the Note to the passage in Bonn's Translation. See also the remark 
of Geta in the Phormio, 1. 293. 

1 Constrained by the laivs) — Yer. 782. He alludes to a law at Athens 
which compelled a man who had debauched a free-born woman to marry 
her. This is said by Davus with the view of frightening Chremes from 
the match. 

2 She ought to be carried off) — Yer. 787. He says this implying that 
Mysis, who is a slave, ought to be put to the torture to confess the 
truth ; as it was the usual method at Athens to force a confession from 
slaves by that method. We find in the Hecyra, Bacchis readily offering 
her slaves to be put to the torture, and in the Adelphi the same custom 
is alluded to in the Scene between Micio, Hegio, and Geta. 



Sc. IX. THE FAIR ANDRIAN. 49 

Scene VIII. 
Davus and Mysis. 

Mys. (Davus attempting to caress her.) Don't touch me, 
villain. (Moving away.) On my word, if I don't tell 
Gly cerium all this 

Dav. How now, simpleton, don't you know what has been 
done ? 

Mys. How should I know ? 

Dav. This is the bride's father. It couldn't any other 
way have been managed that he should know the things that 
we wanted him to know. 

Mys. You should have told me that before. 

Dav. Do you suppose that it makes little difference whe- 
ther you do things according to impulse, as nature prompts, 
or from premeditation ? 

Scene IX. 
Enter Crito, looking about him. 

Crito. (to himself.) It was said that Chrysis used to live 
in this street, who preferred to gain wealth here dishonorably 
to living honestly as a poor woman in her own country: 
by her death that property has descended to me by law. 1 
But I see some persons of whom to make enquiry. (Accosting 
them.) Good morrow to you. 

Mys. Prithee, whom do I see? Isn't this Crito, the kins- 
man of Chrysis ? It is he. 

Cri. O Mysis, greetings to you. 

Mys. Welcome to you, Crito. 

Cri. Is Chrysis then ? 2 Alas! 

1 Descended to me by law) — Yer. 800. On the supposition that 
Chrysis died without a will, Crito as her next of kin would be entitled 
to her effects. 

2 Is Chrysis then ?) — Yer. 804. This is an instance of Aposio- 

pesis; Crito, much affected, is unwilling to name the death of Chrysis. 
It was deemed of ill omen to mention death, and numerous Euphemisms 
or circumlocutions were employed in order to avoid the necessity of 
doing so. 

E 



50 andeia; Act IV., Sc. IX. 

Mys. Too truly. Slie has indeed left us poor creatures 
quite heartbroken. 

Cri. How fare you here, and in what fashion? Pretty 
well? 

Mys. What, we? Just as we can, as they say; since we 
cant as we would. 

Cri. How is Glycerium ? Has she discovered her parents 
yet? 

Mys. I wish slie had. 

Cri. What, not yet ? With no favourable omen did I 
set out for this place; for, upon my faith, if I had known 
that, I never would have moved a foot hither. She was always 
said to be, and was looked upon as her sister; what things were 
hers she is in possession of; now for me to begin a suit at 
law here, the precedents of others warn me, a stranger, 1 how 
easy and profitable a task it would be for me. At the same 
time, I suppose that by this she has got some friend and 
protector ; for she was pretty nearly a grown-up girl when 
she left there. They would cry out that I am a sharper; 
that, a pauper, I'm hunting after an inheritance; besides, I 
shouldn't like to strip the girl herself. 

Mys. O most worthy stranger! I'faith, Crito, you still 
adhere to your good old-fashioned ways. 

Cri. Lead me to her, since I have come hither, that I 
may see her. 

Mys. By all means. {They go into the house of Gly- 
cerium.) 

Dav. {to himself.) I'll follow them ; I don't wish the old 
man to see me at this moment. {He follows Mysis and 
Crito.) 

1 Warn me, a stranger) — Yer. 812. Patrick has the following 
remarks upon this passage : " Madame Daeier observes that it appears, 
from Xenophon's Treatise on the policy of the Athenians, that all the 
inhabitants of cities and islands in alliance with Athens were obliged 
in all claims to repair thither, and refer their cause to the decision 
of the people, not being permitted to plead elsewhere. We cannot 
wonder then that Crito is unwilling to engage in a suit so incon- 
venient from its length, expense, and little prospect of success." She 
might have added that such was the partiality and corruptness of 
the Athenian people, that, being a stranger, his chances of success would 
probably be materially diminished. 



Act V., Sc. I. THE FAIH AXDBIAX. 51 

ACT THE FIFTH. 

SCEXE I. 

Enter Cheemes and Smofrom ike house o/Simo, 

Cheem. Enough already, enough, Simo, has my friendship 
towards you been proved. Sufficient hazard have I begun 
to encounter ; make an end of your entreaties, then. "While 
I've been endeavouring to oblige you, I've almost fooled away 
my daughter's prospects in life. 

Sim. Xay but, now in especial, Chremes, I do beg and 
entreat of you, that the favour, commenced a short time 
since in words, you'll now complete by deeds. 

Cheem. See how unreasonable you are from your very 
earnestness ; so long as you effect what you desire, you 
neither think of limits to compliance, nor what it is you 
request of me ; for if you did think, you would now forbear 
to trouble me with unreasonable requests. 

Sim. What unreasonable requests? 

Cheem. Do you ask? You importuned me to promise 
my daughter to a young man engaged in another attach- 
ment, averse to the marriage state, to plunge her into 
discord and a marriage of uncertain duration; that through. 
her sorrow and her anguish I might reclaim your son. You 
prevailed; while the case admitted of it I made prepara- 
tions. Now it does not admit of it ; you must put up with 
it ; they say that she is a citizen of this place ; a child has 
been born ; do cease to trouble us. 

Sim. By the Gods, I do conjure you not to bring your 
mind to believe those whose especial interest it is that 
he should be as degraded as possible. On account of the 
marriage, have all these things been feigned and contrived. 
When the reason for which they do these things is removed 
from them, they will desist. 

Cheem. You are mistaken ; I myself saw the servant-maid 
wrangling with Davos. 

Sim. {sneering} y.) I am aware. 

Cheem. With an appearance of earnestness, when neither 
at the moment perceived that I was present there. 

e2 



52 akdria; Act Y. 

Sim. I believe it ; and Davus a short time since forewarned 
me that this would be the case; and I don't know how I 
forgot to tell it you to-day, as I had intended. 

Scene II. 
Enter T) aws from the house of Glycerium. 

Dav. {aloud at the door, not seeing Simo and Chremes.) 
Now then, I bid you set your minds at ease. 

Chrem. (to Simo.) See you, there's Davus. 

Sim. From what house is he coming out ? 

Dav. (to himself?) Through my means, and that of the 
stranger 

Sim. (overhearing?) What mischief is this ? 

Dav. (to himself) I never did see a more opportune 
person, encounter, or occasion. 

Sim. The rascal ! I wonder who it is he's praising ? 

Dav. All the affair is now in a safe position. 

Sim. Why do I delay to accost him ? 

Dav. {to himself catching sight o/'Simo.) It's my master; 
what am I to do? 

Sim. (accosting him.) O, save you, good sir! 

Dav. (affecting surprise.) Hah ! Simo! O, Chremes, my 
dear sir, all things are now quite ready in-doors. 

Sim. (ironically) You have taken such very good care. 

Dav. Send for the bride when you like. 

Sim. Yery good : (ironically) of course, that's the only 
thing that's now wanting here. But do you answer me this, 
what business had you there? (Pointing to the house of 
Glycerium.) 

Dav. What, I ? 

Sim. Just so. 

Dav. I? 

Sim. Yes, you. 

Dav. I went in just now. 

Sim. As if I asked how long ago! 

Dav. Together with your son. 

Sim. What, is Pamphilus in there? (Aside.) To my 
confusion, I'm on the rack! (To Davus.) How now ? Didn't 
you say that there was enmity between them, you scoundrel? 

Dav. There is. 



Sc. III. THE FAIR ANDEIAN. 53 

Sim. Why is lie there, then ? 

Chrem. Why do you suppose he is ? {Ironically.) Quar- 
relling with her, of course. 

Dav. Nay but, Chrero.es, I'll let you now hear from me 
a disgraceful piece of business. An old man, I don't know 
who he is, has just now come here ; look you, he is a 
confident and shrewd person ; when you look at his ap- 
pearance, he seems to be a person of some consequence. 
There is a grave sternness in his features, and something 
commanding in his words. 

Sim. What news are you bringing, I wonder ? 

Dav. Why nothing but what I heard him mention. 

Sim. What does he say then ? 

Dav. That he knows Glycerium to be a citizen of Attica, 

Sim. (going to Ms door.) Ho there ! Dromo, Dromo ! 

Scene III. 

Miter Dromo hastily from the house. 

Dro. What is it ? 

Sim. Dromo! 

Dav. Hear me. 

Sim. If you add a word Dromo ! 

Dav. Hear me, pray. 

Dro. (to Simo.) What do you want ? 

Sim. (pointing to Davus.) Carry him off on your shoul- 
ders in-doors as fast as possible. 

Dro. Whom? 

Sim. Davus. 

Dav. For what reason ? 

Sim. Because I choose. (To Dromo.) Carry him off, I say. 

Dav. What have I done ? 

Sim. Carry him off. 

Dav. If you find that I have told a lie in any one matter, 
then kill me. 

Sim. I'll hear nothing. I'll soon have you set in motion. 1 

1 You set in motion) — Yer. 865. By the use of the word "Com- 
motus " he seems to allude to the wretched, restless existence of a man 
tied hand and foot, and continually working at the hand-mill. 
"Westerhovius thinks that Simo uses this word sarcastically, in allusion 
to the words of Davus, at the beginning of the present Scene, " Animo 
otioso esse impero ;" " I bid you set your minds at ease." 



54: akdeia; Act V. 

Dav. What ? Although, this is the truth. 

Sim. In spite of it. {To Dromo.) Take care he's kept well 
secured ; and, do you hear ? Tie him up hands and feet 
together. Now then, be off; upon my faith this very day, if I 
live, I'll teach you what hazard there is in deceiving a master, 
and him in deceiving a father. (Dromo leads Davus into the 
house.) 

Chrem. Oh, don't be so extremely vexed. 

Sim. O Chremes, the dutifolness of a son ! Do you not 
pity me ? That I should endure so much trouble for such a 
son ! ( Goes to the door of Glycerium's house) Come, Pam- 
philus, come out, Pamphilus ! have you any shame left ? 

Scene IY. 
Enter Pamphilus in haste from Glycerium's house. 

Pam. Who is it that wants me? (Aside.) I'm undone! it's 
my father. 

Sim. What say you, of all men, the ? 

Chrem. Oh ! rather speak about the matter itself, and for- 
bear to use harsh language. 

Sim. As if anything too severe could now be possibly said 
against him. Pray, do you say that Gly cerium is a citizen 

Pam. So they say.* 

Sim. So they say ! Unparalleled assurance ! does he 
consider what he says ? Is he sorry for what he has done ? 
Does his countenance, pray, at all betray any marks of shame ? 
That he should be of mind so weak, as, without regard to the 
custom and the law 2 of his fellow-citizens, and the wish of 
his own father, to be anxious, in spite of everything, to have 
her, to his own utter disgrace ! 

Pam. Miserable that I am ! 

Sim. Ha ! have you at last found that out only just now, 
Pamphilus? Long since did that expression, long since, when 

1 Hands and feet together) — Ver. 866. " Quadrupedem." Literally 
" as a quadruped " or " all fours." Echard remarks that it was the custom 
of the Athenians to tie criminals hands and feet together, just like calves. 

2 Without regard to the custom and the law) — Yer. 880. There 
was a law among the Athenians which forbade citizens to marry 
strangers, and made the offspring of such alliances illegitimate ; the 
same law also excluded such as were not born of two citizens from all 
offices of trust and honor. 



Sc. V. THE FAIR AXDRIAX. 55 

yon made up your mind, that what you desired must be effected 
by you at any price ; from that very day did that expression 
aptly befit you. But yet why do I torment myself? Why 
vex myself ? Why worry my old age with his madness ? Am 
I to suffer the punishment for his offences ? Nay then, 
let him have her, good bye to lnm, let him pass his life 
with her. 

Pam. My father 

Sim. How, "my father ?" As if you stood in any need of 
this father. Home, wife, and children, provided by you 
against the will of your father ! People suborned, too. to say 
that she is a citizen of this place ! You have gained your 
point. 

Pam. Father, may I say a few words ? 

Sim. What can you say to me ? 

Chkem. But, Simo, do hear him. 

Sim. I, hear him ? Why should I hear him, Chremes ? 

Chrem. Still, however, do allow him to speak. 

Sim. Well then, let him speak : I allow lnm. 

Pam. I own that I love her ; if that is committing a 
fault, I own that also. To you, father, do I subject myself. 
Impose on me any injunction you please ; command me. Do 
you wish me to take a wife ? Do you wish me to give her 
up ? As well as I can, I will endure it. This only I request 
of you, not to think that this old gentleman has been 
suborned by me. Allow me to clear myself, and to bring 
him here before you. 

Sim. To bring him here ? 

Pam. Do allow me, father. 

Chrem. He asks what's reasonable ; do give him leave. 

Pam. Allow me to obtain thus much of you. 

Sim. I allow it. I desire anything, so long as I find, 
Chremes, that I have not been deceived by him. (Pam- 
philus goes into the house o/Glycerium.) 

Chrem. For a great offence, a slight punishment ought 
to satisfy a father. 

Scene Y. 

'Re-enter Pamphilus with Crito. 

Cri. {to Pamphilus, as he is coming out.) Forbear entreat- 
ing. Of these, any one reason prompts me to do it, either 



56 andria; Act Y. 

your own sake, or the fact that it is the truth, or that I 
wish well for Glycerium herself. 

Chrem. {starting.) Do I see Crito of Andros ? Surely it 
is he. 

Cri. Greetings to you, Chremes. 

Chrem. How is it that, so contrary to your usage, you 
are at Athens ? 

Cri. So it has happened. But is this Sinio ? 

Chrem. It is he. 

Cri. Simo, were you asking for me ? 

Sim. How now, do you say that Glycerium is a citizen of 
this place ? 

Cri. Do you deny it ? 

Sim. {ironically.) Have you come here so well prepared ? 

Cri. For what purpose ? 

Sim. Do you ask ? Are you to be acting this way with 
impunity? Are you to be luring young men into snares 
here, inexperienced in affairs, and liberally brought up, by 
tempting them, and to be playing upon their fancies by 
making promises ? 

Cri. Are you in your senses ? 

Sim. And are you to be patching up amours with Cour- 
tesans by marriage ? 

Pam. {aside.) I'm undone ! I fear that the stranger will 
not put up with this. 

Chrem. If, Simo, you knew this person well, you would 
not think thus ; he is a worthy man. 

Sim. He, a worthy man ! To come so opportunely to-day 
just at the very nuptials, and yet never to have come before ? 
{Ironically.) Of course, we must believe him, Chremes. 

Pam. {aside.) If I didn't dread my father, I have some- 
thing, which, in this conjuncture, I could opportunely suggest 
to him. 1 

1 Could, opportunely suggest to him) — Ver. 919. Colman has the fol- 
lowing remark on this line : " Madame Dacier and several English 
Translators make Pamphilus say that he could give Crito a hint or two. 
What hints he could propose to suggest to Crito, I cannot conceive. 
The Italian translation, printed with the Yatican Terence, seems to 
understand the words in the same manner that I have translated them, 
in which sense (the pronoun e ilium ' referring to Simo instead of 
Crito) they seem to be the most natural words of Pamphilus on occasion 
f his father's anger and the speech immediately preceding." 



Sc. V. THE FAIR AKDRIA^. 57 

Sim. (sneeringly , to Chremes.) A sharper! 1 

Cri. (starting.) Hah ! 

Chrem. It is his way, Crito ; do excuse it. 

Cri. Let him take heed how he behaves. If he persists 
in saying to me what he likes, he'll be hearing things 
that he don't like. Am I meddling with these matters 
or interesting myself? Can you not endure your troubles 
with a patient mind ? For as to what I say, whether it is 
true or false what I have heard, can soon be known. A 
certain man of Attica, a long time ago, 2 his ship being 
wrecked, was cast ashore at Andros, and this woman together 
with him, who was then a little girl ; he, in his destitution, 
by chance first made application to the father of Chrysis 

Sim. {ironically.) He's beginning his tale. 

Chrem. Let him alone. 

Cri. Really, is he to be interrupting me in this way ? 

Chrem. Do you proceed. 

Cri. He who received him was a relation of mine. There 
I heard from him that he was a native of Attica. He died 
there. 

Chrem. His name ? 

Cri. The name, in such a hurry ! 

Pam. Phania. 

Chrem. (starting.) Hah ! I shall die ! 

Cri. I'faith, I really think it was Phania ; this I know 
for certain, he said that he was a citizen of Pharnnus. 3 

Chrem. Jupiter! 

1 A sharper) — Yer. 920. " Sycophanta." For some account of the 
" sycophantae," "swindlers" or u sharpers" of ancient times, see the 
Kotes to the Trinummus of Plautus, Bohn's Translation. 

2 A long time ago) — Ver. 924. The story begins with " Olim," just 
in the same way that with us nursery tales commence with " There 
was, a long time ago." 

3 A citizen of Rhamnus) — Yer. 931. Ehamnus was a maritime town 
of Attica, near which many of the more wealthy Athenians had country- 
seats. It was famous for the Temple of Xemesis there, the Goddess 
of Yengeance, who was thence called " Ehamnusia." In this Temple 
was her statue, carved by Phidias out of the marble which the Persians 
brought to Greece for the purpose of making a statue of Victory out 
of it, and which was thus appropriately devoted to the Goddess of 
[Retribution. The statue wore a crown, and had wings, and, holding a 
spear of ash in the right hand, it was seated on a stag. 



58 axdria; Act V. 

Cri. Many other persons in Andros have heard the same, 
Chremes. 

Chrem. (aside.) I trust it may turn out as I hope. (To 
Crito.) Come now, tell me, what did he then say about 
her ? Did he say she was his own daughter ? 

Cri. No. 

Chrem. Whose then ? 

Cri. His brothers daughter. 

Chrem. She certainly is mine. 

Cri. What do you say ? 

Sim. What is this that you say? 

Pam. (aside.) Prick up your ears, Pamphilus. 

Sim. Why do you suppose so? 

Chrem. That Phania was my brother. 

Sim. I knew him, and I am aware of it. 

Chrem. He, flying from the wars, and following me to 
Asia, set out from here. At the same time he was afraid to 
leave her here behind ; since then, this is the first time I 
have heard what became of him. 

Pam. (aside.) I am scarcely myself, so much has my mind 
been agitated by fear, hope, joy, and surprise at this so 
great, so unexpected blessing. 

Sim. Really, I am glad for many reasons that she has 
been discovered to be a citizen. 

Pam. I believe it, father. 

Chrem. But there yet remains one diinculty 1 with me, 
which keej3s me in suspense. 

Pam. (aside.) You deserve to be , with your scruples, 

you plague. You are seeking a knot in a bulrush. 2 

Cri. (to Chremes.) What is that ? 

Chrem. The names don't agree. 

Cri. Troth, she had another when little. 

Chrem. W T hat was it, Crito ? Can you remember it ? 

1 One difficulty) — Yer. 941. " Scrupus," or " scrupulus," was pro- 
perly a stone or small piece of gravel which, getting into the shoe, 
hurt the foot ; hence the word figuratively came to mean a " scrapie," 
" difficulty," or "doubt." We have a similar expression: "to be 
gravelled." 

2 A knot in a bulrush) — Yer. 942. " Nodum in scirpo qugerere" was 
a proverbial expression implying a desire to create doubts and difficulties 
where there really were none ; there being no knots in the bulrush. 
The same expression occurs in theMenaechmi of Plautus, 1. 247. 



Sc. V. THE FAIK AXDRIAX. 59 

Cm. I'm trying to recollect it. 

Pah. (aside.) Am I to suffer his memory to stand in the 
way of my happiness, when I myself can provide my own re- 
medy in this matter ? I will not suffer it. (Aloud.) Hark you, 
Chreines, that which you are trying to recollect is i Pasibula.' 

Chrem. The very same. 

Cm, That's it. 

Pail I've heard it from herself a thousand times. 

Sim. I suppose, Chremes, that you believe that we ail 
rejoice at this discovery. 

Chrem. So may the Gods bless me, I do believe it. 

Pah. What remains to be done, father ? 

Sim. The event itself has quite brought me to reconcile- 
ment. 

Pam. kind father! With regard to her as a wife, 
since I have taken possession of her, Chremes will not offer 
any opposition. 

Chrem. The plea is a very good one, unless perchance your 
father says anything to the contrary. 

Pam. Of course, I agree. 

Sim. Then be it so. 1 

Chbeh. Her portion, Pamphilus, is ten talents. 

Pam. I am satisfied. 

Chrem. I'll hasten to my daughter. Come now, (beckoning) 
along with me, Crito ; for I suppose that she will not know 
me. (They go into Glycerium's house.) 

Sim. (To Pamphilus.) "Why don't you order her to be 
sent for hither, to our house ? 

Pam. "Well thought of; TO at once give charge of that 
to Davus. 

Sim. He can't do it 

1 Of course Then be it so)— Ver. 951. "Xempe id. Scilicet." Col- 
man has the following remark on this line : " Donatus, and some others 
after him, understand these words of Simo and Pamphilus as requiring a 
fortune of Chremes with his daughter : and one of them says that Simo, 
in order to explain his meaning, in the representation, should produce 
a bag of money. This surely is precious refinemeDt, worthy the genius 
of a true Commentator. Madame Dacier, who entertains a just veneration 
for Donatus, doubts the authenticity of the observation ascribed to him. 
The sense I have followed is, I think, the most obvious and natural 
interpretation of the words of Pamphilus and Simo, which refers to the 
preceding, not the subsequent, speech of Chremes.'' 



60 andeia; Act V. 

Pam. How so ? 

Sim. Because he has another matter that more nearly 
concerns himself, and of more importance. 

Pam. What, pray ? 

Sim. He is bound. 

Pam. Father, he is not rightly bound. 1 

Sim. But I ordered to that effect. 

Pam. Prithee, do order him to be set at liberty. 

Sim. Well, be it so. 

Pam. But immediately. 

Sim. I'm going in. 

Pam. O fortunate and happy day! (Simo goes into his 
house.) 

Scene VI. 

Enter Charinus, at a distance. 

Char, {apart to himself.) I'm come to see what Pamphilus 
is about \ and look, here he is. 

Pam. {to himself.) Some one perhaps might imagine 
that I don't believe this to be true ; but now it is clear to 
me that it really is true. I do think that the life of the 
Gods is everlasting, for this reason, because their joys are 
their own. 2 For immortality has been obtained by me, if no 
sorrow interrupts this delight. But whom in particular could 
I wish to be now thrown in my way, for me to relate these 
things to ? 

Char, {apart to himself) What means this rapture ? 

1 He is not rightly bound) — Ver. 956. " Non recte vinctus ;" meaning 
" it was not well done to bind him." The father pretends to understand 
him as meaning (which he might equally well by using the same words), 
" non satis stricte," " he wasn't tightly enough " bound ; and answers 
" I ordered that he should be," referring to his order for Davus to be 
bound hand and foot. Donatus justly observes that the disposition 
of the old gentlemen to joke is a characteristic mark of his thorough 
reconciliation. 

2 Their joys are their own) — Yer. 961. Westerhovius remarks that 
he seems here to be promulgating the doctrine of Epicurus, who taught 
that the Deities devoted themselves entirely to pleasure and did not 
trouble themselves about mortals. Donatus observes that these are 
the doctrines of Epicurus, and that the whole sentence is copied from 
the Eunuch of Menander ; to which practice of borrowing from various 
Plays, allusion is made in the Prologue, where he mentions the mixing 
of plays ; " contaminari fabulas." 



Sc. VII. THE FAIR ANDRIAN. 61 

Pam. (to himself.) I see Dams. There is no one in the 
world whom I would choose in preference ; for I am sure 
that he of all people will sincerely rejoice in my happiness. 



SCESE VII. 

Enter Davus. 

Dav. (to himself) Where is Panipkilus, I wonder ? 

Pam. Here he is, Davus. 

Dav. (turning round.) Who's that ? 

Pam. 'Tis I, Pamphilus ; you don't know what has hap- 
pened to me. 

Dav. No really ; but I know what has happened to 
myself. 

Pam. And I too. 

Dav. It has fallen out just like human affairs in general, 
that you should know the mishap I have met with, before 
I the good that has befallen you. 

Pam. My Glycerium has discovered her parents. 

Dav. O, well done ! 

Char, (apart, in surprise.) Hah ! 

Pam. Her father is an intimate friend of ours. 

Dav. Who? 

Pam. Chremes. 

Dav. You do tell good news. 

Pam. And there's no hindrance to my marrying her at 
once. 

Char, {apart) Is he dreaming the same that he has been 
wishing for when awake ? 

Pam. Then about the child, Davus. 

Dav. O, say no more ; you are the only person whom the 
Gods favour. 

Char, (apart) I'm all right if these things are true. I'll 
accost them. (Comes forward) 

Pam. Who is this ? Why, Charinus, you meet me at the 
very nick of time. 

Char. That's all right. 

Pam. Have you heard ? 

Char. Everything ; come, in your good fortune do have 



62 ant>eia; the faib andrian". Act V.,Sc.VII. 

some regard for me. Chremes is now at your command ; 
I'm sure that he'll do everything you wish. 

Pam. I'll remember you ; and because it is tedious for us to 
wait for him until he comes out, follow me this way ; he is 
now in-doors at the house of Glycerium \ do you, Davus. go 
home ; send with all haste to remove her thence. Why are 
you standing there ? Why are you delaying ? 

Dav. I'm going. (Pamphilus and Chariots go into the 
house of Glycerium. Davus then comes forward and addresses 
the Audience.) Don't you wait until they come out from 
there ; she will be betrothed within : if there is anything 
else that remains, it will be transacted in-doors. Grant us 
your applause. 1 

1 Grant us your applause) — Ver. 982. "Plaudite." Colman has the 
following remark at the conclusion of this Play : " All the old Tragedies 
and Comedies acted at Eome concluded in this manner. f Donee 
cantor vos ' Plaudite' dicat,' says Horace. "Who the ' cantor' was, is a 
matter of dispute. Madame Dacier thinks it was the whole chorus; 
'others suppose it to have been a single actor; some the prompter, and 
some the composer. Before the word i Plaudite ' in all the old copies 
is an Q, which has also given rise to several learned conjectures. It is 
most probable, according to the notion of Madame Dacier, that this Q, 
being the last letter of the Greek alphabet, was nothing more than the 
mark of the transcriber to signify the end, like the Latin word ' Finis ' 
in modern books; or it might, as Patrick supposes, stand for Qdog, 
* cantor, ' denoting that the following word ' Plaudite ' was spoken by 
him. After ' Plaudite ' in all the old copies of Terence stand these 
two words, 'Calliopius recensui;' which signify, f I, Calliopius, have 
revised and corrected this piece.' And this proceeds from the custom 
of the old critics, who carefully revised all Manuscripts, and when they 
had read and corrected any work, certified the same by placing their 
names at the end of it." 



EUNUCHUS; THE EUNUCH. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 

Laches/ an aged Athenian. 

Ph^edria , 2 I , . 

„ I >his sons. 

Chorea, 3 ) 

Anttpho, 4 a young man, friend of Chaerea. 

Chremes, 5 a young man, brother of Pamphila. 

Thraso, 6 a boastful Captain. 

Gnatho/ a Parasite. 

Parheno, 8 servant of Phaedria. 

Sanga, 9 cook to Thraso. 

«Donax, 10 -j 

Slmalio, 11 I servants of Thraso. 

Syriscus, 12 ) 

Dorus, 15 a Eunuch slave. 

Thais, 13 a Courtesan. 

j. j* > her attendants. 

Sophrona, 16 a nurse. 
Pamphila, 17 a female slave. 

Scene. — Athens ; before the houses of Laches and Thais. 



1 From \ayxavu), "to obtain by lot" or "heirship." 

2 From tyaiCpbg, "cheerful." 

3 From x a ' i pwv, "rejoicing." 

4 From avrl, " opposite to," and 6wq 9 "light," or Qijui, "to speak. 

5 From xp e f*i-Z<*>> "to neigh ;" delighting in horses. 

6 From Qoclgoq, " boldness." 

7 From yvadbg, "the jawbone;" a glutton. 

8 From TiCtoa, "by," and fikvia, "to remain." 

9 From Sangia in Phrygia, his native country. 

10 From dovdZ, " a reed." 

11 From (Tij-ibc, " flat-nosed." 

12 From Syria, his country; or from GvpioKoc, "a basket of figs." 

13 From Oeaopai, " to look at." 

14 From 7ru0o[ikvT), "asking questions." 

15 From Doris, their country, a part of Caria. 

16 From awQpwv, "prudent." 

17 From wav, "all," and tjuXbg, "a friend." 



THE SUBJECT. 



A cektain citizen of Athens had a daughter named Pamphila, and a 
son called Chremes. The former was stolen while an infant, and sold to 
a Ehodian merchant, who having made a present of her to a Courtesan 
of Khodes, she brought her up with her own daughter Thais, who was 
somewhat older. In the course of years, Thais following her mother's 
way of life, removes to Athens. Her mother dying, her property is 
put up for sale, and Pamphila is purchased as a slave by Thraso, an 
officer and an admirer of Thais, who happens just then to be visiting 
Ehodes. During the absence of Thraso, Thais becomes acquainted 
with Phaedria, an Athenian youth, the son of Laches ; she also dis- 
covers from Chremes, who lives near Athens, that Pamphila, her 
former companion, is his sister. Thraso returns, intending to present 
to her the girl he has bought, but determines not to do so until she 
has discarded Phsedria. Finding that the girl is no other than Pam- 
phila, Thais is at a loss what to do, as she both loves Phsedria, and 
is extremely anxious to recover Pamphila. At length, to please the 
Captain, she excludes Phaedria, but next day sends for him, and 
explains to him her reasons, at the same time begging of him to 
allow Thraso the sole right of admission to her house for the next 
two days, and assuring him that as soon as she shall have gained pos- 
session of the girl, she will entirely throw him off. Phaedria consents, 
and resolves to spend these two days in the country ; at the same 
time he orders Parmeno to take to Thais a Eunuch and an ^Ethiopian 
girl, whom he has purchased for her. The Captain also sends Pam- 
phila, who is accidentally seen by Chaerea, the younger brother of 
Phaedria ; he, being smitten with her beauty, prevails upon Parmeno 
to introduce him into the house of Thais, in the Eunuch's dress. 
Being admitted there, in the absence of Thais, he ravishes the 
damsel. Shortly afterwards Thraso quarrels with Thais, and comes 
with all his attendants to her house to demand the return of Pam- 
phila, but is disappointed. In conclusion, Pamphila is recognized by 
her brother Chremes, and is promised in marriage to Chaerea ; while 
Thraso becomes reconciled to Phaedria, through the mediation of 
Gnatho, his Parasite. 



THE TITLE 1 OF THE PLAT. 



Performed at the Megalensian Games; L. Postnuraius 
Albinus and L. Cornelius Merula beino- Curule iEdiles. 
L. Arubivius Turpio and L. Atilitis Pramestinus j)erfomied 
it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the 
music to two treble flutes. From the Greek of Menander. 
It was acted twice/ M. Valerius and C. Fannius being 
Consuls. 3 



1 The Title) — Colman has the following remark on this Play: 
" This seems to have been the most popular of all the Comedies of 
Terence. Suetonius and Donatus both inform us that it was acted with 
the greatest applause, and that the Poet received a larger price for it 
from the JSdiles than had ever been paid for any before, namely, 8000 
sesterces, which is about equal to 200 crowns, which in those times was 
a considerable sum." 

2 Acted twice) — This probably means "twice in one day." As it is 
generally supposed that something is wanting after the figures II, this 
is presumed to be "die," "in one day," in confirmation of which 
Suetonius informs us that it really was performed twice in one day. 
Donatus says it was performed three times, by which he may probably 
mean, twice on one day and once on another. 

3 Being Consuls) — M. Valerius Messala and C. Fannius Strabo were 
Consuls in the year from the building of the City 591, or B.C. 162. 



EUNUCHUS; THE EUNUCH. 



THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINAKIS. 

The Captain, Thraso, being ignorant of the same, has brought from 
abroad a girl who used wrongly to be called the sister of Thais, and 
presents her to Thais herself : she in reality is a, citizen of Attica. 
To the same woman, Phsedria, an admirer of Thais, orders a Eunuch 
whom he has purchased, to be taken, and he himself goes away into 
the country, having been entreated to give up two days to Thraso. 
A youth, the brother of Phsedria, having fallen in love with the 
damsel sent to the house of Thais, is dressed up in the clothes of the 
Eunuch. Parmeno prompts him ; he goes in ; he ravishes the maiden ; 
but at length her brother being discovered, a citizen of Attica, 
betrothes her who has been ravished, to the youth, and Thraso 
prevails upon Phaedria by his entreaties. 



THE PROLOGUE. 

If there is any one who desires to please as many good 
men as possible, and to give offence to extremely few, among 
those does our Poet enrol his name. Next, if there is one 
■who thinks 1 that language too harsh is liere applied to him, 
let him bear this in mind — that it is an answer, not an attack ; 
inasmuch as he has himself been the first aggressor; who, by 
translating plays verbally, 2 and writing them in bad Latin, has 
made out of good Greek Plays Latin ones by no means good. 

1 If there is one who thinks) — Yer. 4. He alludes to his old enemy, 
Luscus Lavinius, the Comic Poet, who is alluded to in the Prologue 
to the Andria, and has since continued his attacks upon him. 

2 By translating literally) — Yer. 7. "Bene vertendo, at eosdem 
scribendo male." This passage has greatly puzzled some of the Commen- 
tators. Bentley has, however, it appears, come to the most reasonable 
conclusion; who supposes that Terence means by "bene vertere," a literal 
translation, word for word, from the Greek, by which a servile adherence 
to the idiom of that language was preserved to the neglect of the Latin 
idiom ; in consequence of which the Plays of Luscus Lavinius were, 
as he remarks, " male scriptse," written in bad Latin. 



EOTTJCHTJSj THE EUNUCH. 67 

Just as of late he has published the Phasma 1 [the Appari- 
tion] of Menander; and in the Thesaurus [the Treasure] 
has described 2 him from whom the gold is demanded, as 

1 Has published the Phasma) — Ver. 9. The " Manila" or "Appa- 
rition," was a Play of Menander, so called, in which a young man 
looking through a hole in the wall between his father's house and that 
next door, sees a young woman of marvellous beauty, and is struck with 
awe at the sight, as though by an apparition ; in the Play, the girl's 
mother is represented as having made this hole in the wall, and having 
decked it with garlands and branches that it may resemble a con- 
secrated place; where she daily performs her devotions in company 
with her daughter, who has been privately brought up, and whose 
existence is unknown to the neighbours. On the youth coming by 
degrees to the knowledge that the object of his admiration is but a 
mortal, his passion becomes so violent that it will admit of no cure but 
marriage, with the celebration of which the Play concludes. Bentley 
gives us the above information from an ancient Scholiast, whose name is 
unknown, unless it is Donatus himself, which is doubtful. It would 
appear that Luscus Lavinius had lately made a translation of this Play, 
which, from its servile adherence to the language of the original, had 
been couched in ungrammatical language, and probably not approved 
of by the Audience. Donatus thinks that this is the meaning of the 
passage, and that, content with this slight reference to a well-known 
fact, the author passes it by in contemptuous silence. 

2 And in the Thesaurus has described) — Ver. 10. Cook has the fol- 
lowing appropriate remark upon this passage : " In the ' Thesaurus,' 
or ' Treasure ' of Luscus Lavinius, a young fellow, having wasted his 
estate by his extravagance, sends a servant to search his fathers monu- 
ment : but he had before sold the ground on which the monument was, 
to a covetous old man : to whom the servant applies to help him open 
the monument : in which they discover a hoard and a letter. The old 
fellow sees the treasure and keeps it ; the young one goes to law with 
him, and the old man is represented as opening his cause first before 
the judge, which he begins with these words : — 

" Athenienses, bellum cum Ehodiensibus, 
Quod merit, quid ego prsedicem V 
" Athenians, why should I relate the war with the Ehodians V And 
he goes on in a manner contrary to the rules of court ; which Terence 
objects to, because the young man, who was the plaintiff, should open 
his cause first. Thus far Bentley, from the same Scholiast [as referred 
to in the last Xote]. This X ote is a clear explanation of the four verses 
to which it belongs. Hare concurs with Madame Dacier in her opinion 
"de Thesauro.'*' that it is only a part of the Phasma of Menander, and 
not a distinct Play ; but were I not determined by the more learned 
Bentley. the text itself would not permit me to be of their opinion ; for 
the words " at que in Thesauro scripsit" seem plainly to me to be a tran- 
sition to another Play. The subject of the Thesaurus is related by 

f2 



68 eunuchus; 

pleading his cause why it should be deemed his own, before 
the person who demands it has stated how this treasure 
belongs to him, or how it came into the tomb of his father. 
Henceforward, let him not deceive himself, or fancy thus, 
" I have now clone with it ; there's nothing that he can say 
to me." I recommend him not to be mistaken, and to 
refrain from provoking me. I have many other points, as to 
which for the present he shall be pardoned, which, however, 
shall be brought forward hereafter, if he persists in attacking 
me, as he has begun to clo. After the ^Ediles had purchased 
the Eunuch of Menander, the Play which we are about 
to perform, he managed to get an opportunity of viewing 
it. 1 When the magistrates were present it began to be per- 
formed. He exclaimed that a thief, no Poet, had produced 
the piece, but still had not deceived 2 him; that, in fact, it 
was the Colax, an old Play of Plautus; 3 and that from it 
were taken the characters of the Parasite and the Captain. 

Eugraphius, though not with all the circumstances mentioned in my 
Note from Bentley." Colman also remarks here : " Menander and his 
contemporary Philemon, each of them wrote a Comedy under this title. 
We have in the above Note the story of Menander s ; and we know that 
of Philemon's from the ' Trinummus' of Plautus, which was a Translation 
of it." 

1 Opportunity of viewing it) — Yer. 21. Colman thinks that this 
means something " stronger than merely being present at the repre- 
sentation/' and he takes the meaning to be, that having obtained leave 
to peruse the MS., he furnished himself with objections against the 
piece, which he threw out when it came to be represented before the 
magistrates. Cooke thinks that the passage only means, "that he 
bustled and took pains to be near enough at the representation to see 
and hear plainly." The truth seems to be that Lavinius managed to 
obtain admission at the rehearsal or trial of the merits of the piece 
before the magistrates, and that he then behaved himself in the 
unseemly manner mentioned in the text. 

2 Produced the piece, but still had not deceived him) — Yer. 24. There 
is a pun here upon the resemblance in meaning of the words " verba 
dare " and " fabulam dare." The first expression means " to deceive " or 
" impose upon ; " the latter phrase has also the same meaning, but it 
may signify as well " to represent " or ' ' produce a Play." Thus the 
exclamation in its ambiguity may mean, " he has produced a Play, and 
has not succeeded in deceiving us," or " he has deceived us, and yet has 
not deceived us." This is the interpretation which Donatus puts upon 
the passage. 

3 Colax, an old Play of Plautus) — Yer. 25. Although Nonius Mar- 



THE EUNUCH. 69 

If this is a fault, the fault is the ignorance of the Poet ; 
not that he intended to be guilty of theft. That so it is, 
you will now be enabled to judge. The Colax is a Play of 
Menander's ; in it there is Colax, a Parasite, and a braggart 
Captain: he does not deny that he has transferred these 
characters into his Eunuch from the Greek \ but assuredly 
he does deny this, that he was aware that those pieces had 
been already translated into Latin. But if it is not per- 
mitted us to use the same characters as others, how can it 
any more be allowed to represent hurrying servants, 1 to 
describe virtuous matrons, artful courtesans, the gluttonous 

cellus professes to quote from the Colax of Plautus (so called from 
the Greek Ko\«£, "a flatterer'' or " parasite "), some scholars have 
disbelieved in the existence of any Play of Plautus known by that name. 
Cooke says : " If Plautus had wrote a Play under the title of i Colax,' 
I should think it very unlikely that it should have escaped Terence's 
eye, considering how soon he flourished after Plautus, his being 
engaged in the same studies, and his having such opportunities to 
consult the libraries of the great ; for though all learning was then 
confined to Manuscripts, Terence could have no difficulty in 
coming at the best copies. The character of the 'Miles Gloriosus' 
[Braggart Captain] here mentioned, I am inclined to think the same 
with that which is the hero of Plautus's Comedy, now extant, and 
called ' Miles Gloriosus,' from which Terence could not take his Thraso. 
Pyrgopolinices and Thraso are both full of themselves, both boast of their 
valour and their intimacy with princes, and both fancy themselves 
beloved by all the women who see them ; and they are both played off 
by their Parasites, but they differ in their manner and their speech : 
Plautus's Pyrgopolinices is always in the clouds, and talking big, 
and of blood and wounds — Terence's Thraso never says too little nor 
much, but is an easy ridiculous character, continually supplying the 
Audience with mirth without the wild extravagant bluster of Pyrgopo- 
linices ; Plautus and Terence both took their soldiers and Parasites 
from Menander, but gave them different dresses." Upon this Note 
Colman remarks : " Though there is much good criticism in the 
above Note, it is certain that Plautus did not take his ' Miles Gloriosus' 
from the Colax of Menander, as he himself informs us it was translated 
from a Greek play called 'AXa^wj-, 'the Boaster/ and the Parasite is but 
a trifling character in that play, never appearing after the first Scene/' 
1 Hurrying servants) — Ver. 35. On the " current es servi," see the 
Prologue to the Heautontiruorumenos, 1. 31. Ovid, in the Amores, 
B. i., El. 15, 1. 17, 18, mentions a very similar combination of the 
characters of Menander's Comedy : " So long as the deceitful slave, 
the harsh father, the roguish procuress, and the cozening courtesan 
shall endure, Menander will exist;" 



70 eunuchus; Act I. 

parasite, the braggart captain, the infant palmed off, the old 
man cajoled by the servant, about love, hatred, suspicion? 
In fine, nothing is said now that has not been said before. 
Wherefore it is but just that you should know this, and 
make allowance, if the moderns do what the ancients used 
to do. Grant me your attention, and give heed in silence, 
that you may understand what the Eunuch means. 



ACT THE FIRST. 

Scene I. 

Enter Ph^dbja and Pakmeno. 

Ph^b. "What, then, shall I do? 1 Ought I not to go, not 
now even, when I am sent for of her own accord ? Or 
ought I rather so to behave myself as not to put up with 
affronts from Courtesans? She shut her door against me; 
she now invites me back. Ought I to return? No; though 
she should implore me. 

Par. I'faith, if indeed you only can, there's nothing better 
or more spirited; but if you begin, and cannot hold out 
stoutly, and if, when you cannot endure it, while no one 
asks you, peace being not made, you come to her of your 
own accord, showing that you love her, and cannot endure 
it, you are done for ; it's all over ivith you; you are ruined 
outright. She'll be jilting you, when she finds you over- 
come. Do you then, while there's time, again and again 
reflect upon this, master, that a matter, which in itself 
admits of neither prudence nor moderation, you are un- 
able to manage with prudence. In love there are all these 
evils; wrongs, suspicions, enmities, reconcilements, war, then 
peace ; if you expect to render these things, naturally un- 
certain, certain by dint of reason, you wouldn't effect it a 
bit the more than if you were to use your endeavours to be 

1 What, then, shall I do ?) — Ver. 46. Phaedria, on being sent for by 
Thais, breaks out into these words as he enters, after having deliberated 
upon his parting with her. Both Horace and Persius have imitated this 
passage in their Satires. 



Sc. II. THE EUNUCH. 71 

mad with reason. And, what you are now, in anger, medi- 
tating to yourself, " "What ! I to her r 1 Who — him ! Who — 
me ! Who wouldn't ? Only let me alone ; I had rather die ; 
she shall find out what sort of a person I am;" these ex- 
pressions, upon my faith, by a single false tiny tear, which, 
by rubbing her eyes, poor thing, she can hardly squeeze out 
perforce, she will put an end to ; and she'll be the first to 
accuse you ; and you will be too ready to give satisfaction 
to her. 

Ph^ed. O disgraceful conduct ! I now perceive, both that 
she is perfidious, and that I am a wretched man. I am both 
weary of her, and burn with passion ; knowing and fully 
sensible, alive and seeing it, I am going to ruin ; nor do 
I know what I am to do. 

Par. What you are to do ? Why, only to redeem your- 
self, thus captivated, at the smallest price you can ; if you 
cannot at a very small rate, still for as little as you can ; and 
do not afflict yourself. 

Ph^ed. Do you persuade me to this ? 

Par. If you are wise. And don't be adding to the 
troubles which love itself produces ; those which it does 
produce, bear patiently. But see, here she is coming herself 
the downfall of our fortunes, 2 — for that which we ought 
ourselves to enjoy she intercepts. 

Scene II. 

Enter TnAisfrom her house. 

Thais (to herself] not seeing them.) Ah wretched me ! I 
fear lest Phaedria should take it amiss or otherwise than I 
intended it, that he was not admitted yesterday. 

1 What! I to her?) — Yer. 65. Donatus remarks that this is an abrupt 
manner of speaking familiarly to persons in anger ; and that the sen- 
tences are thus to be understood, "I, go to her? Her, who has 
received him! "Who has excluded me! 5 ' — inasmuch as indignation 
loves to deal in Ellipsis and Aposiopesis. 

°^The downfall of our fortunes)— -Yer. 79. Colman observes, "There 
Is an extreme elegance in this passage in the original; and the 
figurative expression is beautifully employed/' " Calamitas "■ was 
originally a word used in husbandry, which signified the destruction of 
growing corn ; because, as Donatus says, " Comminuit calamum et 
segetem ;" — u it strikes down the blades and standing corn." 



72 eunuchus; Act I. 

Piled, (aside to Parmeno.) I'm trembling and shivering 
all over, Parmeno, at the sight of her. 

Par. (apart.) Be of good heart; only approach this fire/ 
you'll soon be warmer than you need. 

Thais (turning round.) Who is it that's speaking here? 
What, are you here, my Phaedria ? Why are you standing 
here? Why didn't you come into the house at once? 

Par. (whispering to Phaedria.) But not a word about 
shutting you out ! 

Thais. Why are you silent ? 

Peled. Of course, it's because 2 this door is always open to 
me, or because I'm the highest in your favour? 

Thais. Pass those matters by. 

Ph^ed. How pass them by ? O Thais, Thais, I wish that I 
had equal affection with yourself, and that it were in like 
degree, that either this might distress you in the same way 
that it distresses me, or that I might be indifferent at this 
being done by you. 

Thais. Prithee, don't torment yourself, my life, my 
Phsedria. Upon my faith, I did it, not because I love or 
esteem any person more than you; but the case was such 
that it was necessary to be done. 

Par. (ironically.) I suppose that, poor thing, you shut him 
out of doors, for love, according to the usual practice. 

Thais. Is it thus you act, Parmeno? Well, well. (To 
Phaedria.) But listen — the reason for which I desired you 
to be sent for hither 

Ph^d. Go on. 

Thais. First tell me this ; can this fellow possibly hold his 
tongue ? (pointing to Parmen t o.) 

Par. What, I ? Perfectly well. But, hark you, upon 

1 Approach this fire) — Ver. 85. " Ignem " is generally supposed 
to be used figuratively here and to mean "the flame of love." Eugra- 
phius, however, would understand the expression literally, observing 
that courtesans usually had near their doors an altar sacred to Yenus, 
on which they daily sacrificed. 

2 Of course it's because) — Ver. 89. It must be observed that these words, 
commencing with " Sane, quia vero/' in the original, are said by 
Phsedria not in answer to the words of Thais immediately preceding, 
but to her previous question, "Cur non recta introibas?" "Why 
didn't you come into the house at once]" and that they are spoken in 
bitter irony. 



Sc. II. THE EUXUCH. 73 

these conditions I pledge my word to you ; the truth that 
I hear, I'm silent * upon, and retain it most faithfully ; but 
if I hear what's false and without foundation, it's out at 
once i I'm full of chinks, and leak in every direction. There- 
fore, if you wish it to he kept secret, speak the truth. 

Thais. My mother was a Samian; she lived at Rhodes 

Par. That may be kept a secret. 

Thais. There, at that period, a certain merchant made 
present to my mother of a little girl, who had been stolen 
away from Attica here. 

Par. "What, a citizen ? 

Thais. I think so; we do not know for certain : she her- 
self used to mention her mother's and her father's name ; her 
country and other tokens she didn't know, nor, by reason 
of her age, was she able. The merchant added this : that he 
had heard from the kidnappers that she had been carried off 
from Smriuni. 1 When my mother received her, she began 
carefully to teach her everything, and to bring her up, just 
as though she had been her own daughter. Most persons 
supposed that she was my sister. Thence I came hither with 
that stranger, with whom alone at that period I was con- 
nected ; he left me all which I now possess 

Par. Both these things are false ; out it goes. 

Thais. How so ? 

Par. Because you were neither content with one, nor was 
he the only one to make you presents ; for he likewise 
{pointing to Phjedria) brought a pretty considerable share 
to you. 

Thais. Such is the fact ; but do allow me to arrive at the 
point I wish. In the meantime, the Captain, who had begun 
to take a fancy to me, set out for Caria; 2 since when, in the 
interval, I became acquainted with you. You yourself are 
aware how very dear I have held you ; and how I confess to 
you all my nearest counsels. 

Ph^ed. ISTor will Parmeno be silent about that. 

1 From Sunium) — Yer. 115. This was a town situate near a lofty 
Promontory of that name in Attica. It was famous for a fair which 
was held there. " Sunium's rocky brow " is mentioned by Byron in the 
song of the Greek Captiye in the third Canto of Don Juan. 

2 Set out for Carta) — Yer. 126. This was a country of Asia Minor 
upon the sea-coast, opposite to the island of Ehodes. 



74 eunuchus; Act I. 

Pae. 0, is that a matter of doubt ? 

Thais. Attend; I entreat you. My mother died there 
recently ; her brother is somewhat too greedy after wealth. 
When he saw that this damsel was of beauteous form and 
understood music, hoping for a good price, he forthwith 
put her up for sale, and sold her. By good fortune this 
friend of mine was present ; he bought her as a gift to me, 
not knowing or suspecting anything of all this. He returned ; 
not when he perceived that I had formed a. connexion with 
you as well, he feigned excuses on purpose that he might not 
give her; he said that if he could feel confidence that he 
should be preferred to yourself by me, so as not to appre- 
hend that, when I had received her, I should forsake him, 
then he was ready to give her to me ; but that he did fear 
this. But, so far as I can conjecture, he has set his affections 
upon the girl. 

Ph^d. Anything beyond that ? 

Thais. Nothing; for I have made enquiry. Now, my 
Phsedria, there are many reasons why I could wish to get 
her away from him. In the first place, because she was 
called my sister ; moreover, that I may restore and deliver her 
to her friends. I am a lone woman ; I have no one here, neither 
acquaintance nor relative ; wherefore, Phsedria, I am desirous 
by my good offices to secure friends. Prithee, do aid me 
in this, in order that it may be the more easily effected. Do 
allow him for the few next days to have the preference with 
me. Do you make no answer ? 

Ph^ed. Most vile woman ! Can I make you any answer 
after such behaviour as this ? 

Par. Well done, my master, I commend you ; (aside) he's 
galled at last. (To Phsedria.) You show yourself a man. 

Phjed. I was not aware what you were aiming at ; 
" she was earned away from here, tvlien a little child ; my 
mother brought her up as though her own ; she was called 
my sister; I wish to get her away, that I may restore her 
to her friends." The meaning is, that all these expressions, 
in fine, now amount to this, that I am shut out, he is 
admitted. For what reason ? Except that you love him more 
than me : and now you are afraid of her who has been brought 
hither, lest she should win him, such as he is, from yourself. 

Thais. I, afraid of that ? 



Sc. II. THE EUNUCH. 75 

Ph^ed. What else, then, gives yon concern ? Let me know. 
Is he the only person who makes presents? Have yon found 
my bounty shnt against you? Did I not, when you told 
me that you wished for a servant-maid from Ethiopia, 1 set- 
ting all other matters aside, go and seek for one ? Then you 
said that you wanted a Eunuch, because ladies of quality 2, 
alone make use of them ; I found you one. I yesterday paid 
twenty minse 3 for them both. Though slighted by you, I 
still kept these things in mind; as a reward for so doing, 
I am despised by you. 

Thais. PhaBclria, what does this mean ? Although I wish 
to get her away, and think that by these means it could 
most probably be effected ; still, rather than make an enemy 
of you, I'll do as you request me. 

Phjed. I only wish that you used that expression from 
your heart and truthfully, " rather than make an enemy of 
you." If I could believe that this was said sincerely, I could 
put up with anything. 

Par. {aside.) He staggers; how instantaneously is he 
vanquished by a single expression ! 

Thais. I, wretched woman, not speak from my heart? 
What, pray, did you ever ask of me in jest, but that you 
carried your point ? I am unable to obtain even this of 
you, that you would grant me only two days. 

Ph^ed. If, indeed, it is but two days ; but don't let these 
days become twenty. 

Thais. Assuredly not more than two days, or 

Ph^d. "Or?" I won't have it. 

Thais. It shall not be ; only do allow me to obtain this 
of you. 

Ph.ed. Of course that which you desire must be done. 

Thais. I love you as you deserve ; you act obligingly. 

PhyED. {to Parmeno.) I shall go into the country; there 
I shall worry myself for the next two days : I'm resolved 

1 Servant-maid from JEthiopia) — Yer. 165. No doubt ^Ethiopian or 
negro slaves were much prized by the great, and those courtesans 
whose object it was to ape their manners. 

2 Ladies of quality) — Yer. 168. "ReginEe/' literally "queens/' here 
means women of rank and distinction. 

3 Paid twenty mince) — Yer. 169. The "miua" contained one hun- 
dred " drachmae " of about 9fc£. each. 



76 eotuchus ; Act I., Sc. III. 

to do so ; Tliais must be humoured. Do you, Parraeno, take 
care that they are brought hither. 

Par. Certainly. 

Pkled. For the next two days then, Thais, adieu ! 

Thais. And the same to you, my Phsedria ; do you desire 
aught else ? 

Piled. What should I desire? That, present with the 
Captain, you may be as if absent ; that night and day you 
may love me ; may feel my absence ; may dream of me ; may 
be impatient for me ; may think about me ; may hope for 
me j may centre your delight in me ; may be all in all with 
me ; in fine, if you will, be my very life, as I am yours. 

(Exeunt Ph^dria and Parmeno. 

SCEKE III. 

Thais alone. 

Thais, (to TierseJf.) Ah wretched me! 1 perhaps now he 
puts but little faith in me, and forms his estimate of me 
from the dispositions of other women. 2 By my troth, I, 
who know my own self, am very sure of this, that I have 
not feigned anything that's false, and that no person is 
dearer to my heart than this same Phsedria; and whatever 

1 Ah wretched me !) — Yer. 197. Donatus remarks that the Poet judi- 
ciously reserves that part of the plot to be told here, which Thais did 
not relate to Phsedria in the presence of Parmeno ; whom the Poet 
keeps in ignorance as to the rank of the damsel, that he may with the 
more probability dare to assist Chserea in his attempt on her. 

2 From the dispositions of other women) — Yer 198. Donatus ob- 
serves that this is one of the peculiar points of excellence shown by 
Terence, introducing common characters in a new manner, without 
departing from custom or nature ; since he draws a good Courtesan, and 
yet engages the attention of the Spectators and amuses them. Colman 
has the following K~ote here : " Under the name of Thais, Menander is 
supposed to have drawn the character of his own mistress, Glycerium, 
and it seems he introduced a Courtesan of the same name into several 
of his Comedies. One Comedy was entitled i Thais,' from which 
St. Paul took the sentence in his Epistle to the Corinthians, * Evil 
communications corrupt good manners.'" Plutarch has preserved four 
lines of the Prologue to that Comedy, in which the Poet, in a kind 
of mock-heroic manner, invokes the Muse to teach him to depict the 
character of his heroine. 



Act II., Sc. I. THE EUNUCH. 77 

in the present ease I have clone, for tliis girl's sake have I 
done it : for I trust that now I have pretty nearly discovered 
her brother, a young man of very good familv: and he has 
appointed this day to come to me at my house. I'll go 
hence in-doors, and wait until he comes. (She goes into Iter 
house.) 



ACT THE SECOND. 

SCEXE I. 

Enter Ph-EDRIa and Parmeno. 

Ph.ed. Mind that those people are taken there, as I 
ordered. 

Par. Til do so. 

Ph£D. And carefully. 

Par. It shall be clone. 

Ph.ed. And with all speed. 

Par. It shall be done. 

Phled. Have you had sufficient instructions ? 

Par. Dear me! to ask the question, as though it were a 
matter of difficulty. I wish that you were able. Phaadria, 
to find anything as easily as this present will be lost. 

Ph^d. Together with it, I myself am lost, which concerns 
me more nearly. Don't bear this with such a feeling of 
vexation. 

Par. By no means ; on the contrary, I'll see it done. 
But do you order anything else ? 

Phjed. Set off my present with words, as far as you can ; 
and so far as you are able, do drive away that rival of 
mine from her. 

Par. Pshaw ! I should have kept that in mind, even if 
you hadn't reminded me. 

Pbled. I shall go into the country and remain there. 

Par. I agree with you. {Moves as if going.) 

Ph-ED. But hark you ! 

Par. Wnat is it you want ? 

Pbled. Are you of opinion that I can muster resolution 
and hold out so as not to come back within the time ? 

Par. What, you? Upon my faith, I don't think so; for 



7 8 eunuchus ; Act II. 

either you'll be returning at once, or by-and-by, at night, 
want of sleep will be driving you hither, 

Ph^ed. I'll do some laborious work, that I may be continu- 
ally fatigued, so as to sleep in spite of myself. 

Par. When wearied, you will be keeping awake ; by this 
you will be making it worse. 

Ph^ed. Oh, you talk to no purpose, Parmeno : this soft- 
ness of spirit, upon my faith, must be got rid of; I indulge 
myself too much. Could I not do without her, pray, if there 
were the necessity, even for a whole three days ? 

Par. Whew! an entire three days! Take care what you 
are about. 

Vkmd. My mind is made up. (Exit. 



Scene IL 

Parmeno alone. 

Par. (to himself.) Good Gods ! What a malady is this ! 
That a man should become so changed through love, that 
you wouldn't know him to be the same person ! Not any 
one was there 1 less inclined to folly tnan he, and no one 
more discreet or more temperate. But who is it that's 
coming this way? Hey-day! surely this is Gnatho, the Cap- 
tain's Parasite ; he's bringing along with him the damsel as a 
present to her. Heavens! How beautiful! No wonder if 
I make but a sorry figure here to-day with this decrepit 
Eunuch of mine. She surpasses Thais herself. (Stands 
aside.) 

Scene IIL 

Enter Gnatho at a distance, leading Pamphila. 

Gna. (to himself.) Immortal Gods! how much does one 
man excel another! What a difference there is between a 
wise person and a fool! This strongly came into my 

1 Not anyone was there)— Yer. 226-7. Very nearly the same words 
as these occur in the Mostellaria of Plautus, 1. 29, 30 : "Than whom, 
hitherto, no one of the youth of all Attica has been considered more 
temperate or equally frugal." 



Sc. III. THE EUNUCH. 79 

mind from the following circumstance. As I was coming 
along to-day, I met a certain person of this place, of my 
own rank and station, no mean fellow, one who, like myself, 
had guttled away his paternal estate; I saw him, shabby, 
dirty, sickly, beset with rags and years ; — " What's the 
meaning of this garb?" said I; Tie answered, "Because, 
wretch that I am, I've lost what I possessed : see to what 
I am reduced, — all my acquaintances and friends forsake 
me." On this I felt contempt for him in comparison with 
myself. "What!" said I, "you pitiful sluggard, have you 
60 managed matters as to have no hope left ? Have you 
lost your wits together with your estate ? Don't you see 
me, who have risen from the same condition ? What a com- 
plexion I have, how spruce and well-dressed, what portli- 
ness of person ? I have everything, yet have nothing ; and 
although I possess nothing, still, of nothing am I in want." 
" But I," said he, " unhappily, can neither be a butt nor 
submit to blows." 1 "What!" said I, "do you suppose it 
is managed by those means ? You are quite mistaken. 
Once upon a time, in the early ages, there was a calling for 
that class ; this is a new mode of coney-catching ; I, in 
fact, have been the first to strike into this path. There 
is a class of men who strive to be the first in everything, 
but are not ; to these I make my court ; I do not pre- 
sent myself to them to be laughed at j but I am the 
first to laugh with them, and at the same time to admire 
their parts : whatever they say, I commend ; if they 
contradict that self-same thing, I commend again. Does 
any one deny ? I deny : does he affirm ? I affirro. : in fine, 



1 Nor submit to bloics) — Ver. 244. It has been remarked in the 
IsTotes to the Translation of Plautus that the Parasites had, in conse- 
quence of their state of dependence, to endure blows and indignities 
from their fellow-guests. Their attempts to be "ridiculi" or "drolls" 
were made in order to give some small return to their entertainers. See 
especially the character of Gelasimus in the Stichus of Plautus, and the 
words of Ergasilus in the Captivi, 1. §§, 90. Diderot, as quoted by Col- 
man, observes : " This is the only Scene in Terence which I remember 
that can be charged with being superfluous. Thraso has made a present 
to Thais of a young girl. Gnatho is to convey her. Going along with 
her, he amuses himself with giving the Spectators a most agreeable 
eulogium on his profession. But was that the time for it ? Let Gnatho 
day due attention on the stage to the young woman whom he is charged 
with, and let him say what he will to himself, I consent to it." 



80 eunuchus; Act II. 

I have so trained myself as to humour them in everything. 
This calling is now by far the most productive." 

Par. (apart?) A clever fellow, upon my faith! From 
being fools he makes men mad outright. 

Gna. (to himself, continuing}) While we were thus talking, 
in the meantime we arrived at the market-place ; overjoyed, 
all the confectioners ran at once to meet me ; fishmongers, 1 
butchers, cooks, 2 sausage-makers, and fishermen, whom, both 
when my fortunes were flourishing and when they were 
ruined, I had served, and often serve still: they compli- 
mented me, asked me to dinner, and gave me a hearty 
welcome. When this poor hungry wretch saw that I was in 
such great esteem, and that I obtained a living so easily, then 
the fellow began to entreat me that I would allow him to 
learn this method of me ; I bade him become my follower 3 if 
he could ; as the disciples of the Philosophers take their 
names from the Philosophers themselves, so too, the Parasites 
ought to be called Gnathonics. 

Par. (apart to the Audience) Do you see the effects of 
ease and feeding at another's cost ? 

Gna. (to himself continuing?) But why do I delay to take 
this girl to Thais, and to ask her to come to dinner ? (Aside, 
on seeing Parmeno.) But I see Parmeno, our rival's servant, 
waiting before the door of Thais with a sorrowful air ; all's 
safe ; no doubt these people are finding a cold welcome. 
I'm resolved to have some sport with this knave. 

Par. (aside.) They fancy that, through this present, Thais 
is quite their own. 

Gna. (accosting Parmeno.) With his very best wishes 

1 Fishmongers) — Yer. 257. "Cetarii;" strictly speaking, "dealers 
in large fish." 

2 Cooks)— Yer. 257. The "coqui" were in the habit of standing in 
the market-place for hire by those who required their services. See 
the Pseudolus, the Aulularia, and the Mercator of Plautus, and the Notes 
to Bonn's Translation. See also a remark on the knavish character of 
the sausage-makers in the Truculentus of Plautus, 1. 110. 

3 Become my follower) — Yer. 262. " Sectari." In allusion to the 
manners of the ancient Philosophers, who were wont to be followed by 
a crowd of their disciples, who were styled " sectatores" and "sectse." 
Gnatho intends to found a new school of Parasites, who shall be called 
the " Gnathonics," and who, by their artful adulation, shall contrive to 
be caressed instead of being maltreated. Artotrogus, the Parasite in 
the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, seems, however, to have forestalled 
Gnatho as the founder of this new school. 



Sc. III. THE EUNUCH. 81 

Gnatho greets Parmeno, his very good friend. — What are 
you doing ? 

Par. I'm standing. x 

Gna. So I perceive. Pray, do you see anything here that 
don't please you ? 

Par. Yourself. 

Gna. I believe you, — but anything else, pray ? 

Par. Why so ? 

Gna. Because you are out of spirits. 

Par. Not in the least. 

Gna. Well, don't be so; but what think you of this 
slave ? [pointing to her.) 

Par. Really, not amiss. 

Gna. {aside.) I've galled the fellow. 

Par. {aside, on overhearing him.) How mistaken you are in 
your notion ! 

Gna. How far do you suppose this gift will prove accept- 
able to Thais ? 

Par. It's this you mean to say now, that we are discarded 
there. Hark you, there are vicissitudes in all things. 

Gna. For the next six months, Parmeno, I'll set you at 
ease; you shan't have to be running to and fro, or sitting 
up till daylight. Don't I make you happy? 

Par. Me ? O prodigiously ! 

Gna. That's my way with my friends. 

Par. I commend you. 

1 Tm standing)— Ter. 271. "Quid agitur ?" "Statur." The same 
joke occurs in the Pseudolus of Plautus, 1. 457. " Quid agitur ? Statur 
hie ad hunc rnodum V " What is going on ] " or " What are you 
about ] " " About standing here in this fashion ; " assuming an atti- 
tude. Colman observes that there is much the same kind of conceit in 
the ' Merry Wives of Windsor/ 

61 Falstaff. My honest lads, I will tell you what I am about. 

" Pistol. Two yards or more." 

Cooke has the following note : et ' Quid agitur ' is to be supposed to 
have a single meaning as spoken by Gnatho, but Parmeno archly renders 
it- ambiguous by his answer. Our two first English translations, that 
by Bernard and that by Hoole, make nothing of it, nor indeed any 
other part of their author. Echard follows Madame Dacier, and per- 
ceives a joke; but he does not render 'quid agitur' as the question 
ought to be translated. ' Quid agitur ' sometimes means, i What are you 
doing]'. Sometimes, 'How do you doT 'How are you?' or 'How 
goes the world with you % ' " 

G 



82 eunuchus; Act II. 

Gna. I'm detaining you ; perhaps you were about to go 
somewhere else. 

Par. Nowhere. 

Gna. In that case then, lend me your services a little ; 
let me be introduced to her. 

Pak. Yery well; (Gxatho knocks at the door, tvhich 
immediately opens) now the door is open for you, {aside) 
because you are bringing her. 

Gna. {going into the house of Thais, ironically?) Should 
you like any one to be called out from here ? {Goes in with 
Pamphila, and shuts the door) 

Scene IV. 

Parmeno, alone. 

Par. {to himself.) Only let the next two days go by ; you 
who, at present, in such high favour, are opening the door 
with one little finger, assuredly I'll cause to be kicking at 
that door full oft, with your heels, to no purpose. 

Be-enter Gn atho from the house. 

Gna. Still standing here, Parmeno ? Why now, have you 
been left on guard here, that no go-between might perchance 
be secretly running from the Captain to her ? {Exit. 

Par. Smartly said ; really they ought to he wonderful 
things to please the Captain. But I see my master's young- 
est son coming this way ; I wonder why he has come away 
from the Piraeus, 1 for he is at present on guard there in the 
public service. It's not for nothing ; he's coming in a hurry, 
too ; I can't imagine why he's looking around in all directions. 

Scene Y. 

Enter Chjsrea on the other side of the stage, in haste. 

Qb.m. {to himself) I'm utterly undone ! The girl is no- 

1 From the Pirceus) — Yer. 290. The Piraeus was the chief harbour of 
Athens, at the mouth of the Cephisus, about three miles from the City. 
It was joined to the town by two walls, one of which was built by The- 
mistocles, and the other by Pericles. It was the duty of the Athenian 
youth to watch here in turn by way of precaution against .surprise 
by pirates or the enemy. 



Sc. V. THE EUNUCH. 83 

where ; nor do I know where I am myself, to have lost sight 
of her. Where to enquire for her, where to search for her, 
whom to ask, which way to turn, I'm at a loss. I have only 
this hope ; wherever she is, she cannot long be concealed. 
O what beauteous features ! from this moment I banish all 
other women from my thoughts ; I cannot endure these 
every-day beauties. 

Pak. (apart.) Why look, here's the other one. He's say- 
ing something, I don't know what, about love. O unfortunate 
old man, their father I This assuredly is a youth, who, if he 
does begin, you will say that the other one was mere play 
and pastime, compared with what the madness of this one 
will cause. 

Ch,e. (to 7ii?nself, aloud) May all the Gods and Goddesses 
confound that old fellow who detained me to-day, and me 
as well who stopped for him, and in fact troubled myself a 
straw about him. But see, here's Parmeno. (Addressing 
him.) Good morrow to you. 

Par Why are you out of spirits, and why in such a 
hurry ? Whence come you ? 

CHiE. What, I ? I'faith, I neither know whence I'm 
come, nor whither I'm going ; so utterly have I lost myself. 

Par. How, pray ? 

Ch-£. I'm in love. 

Par. (starting.) Ha ! 

Ch.e. ISTow, Parmeno, you may show what sort of a man 
you are. You know that you often promised me to tliis 
effect : " Chaerea, do you only find some object to fall in 
love with ; I'll make you sensible of my usefulness in such 
matters," when I used to be storing up my father's provi- 
sions for you on the sly in your little room. 1 

Par. To the point, you simpleton. 

Ch^. Upon my faith, this is the fact. "Now, then, let 
your promises be made good, if you please, or if indeed the 
affair is a deserving one for you to exert your energies 
upon. The girl isn't like our girls, whom their mothers are 
anxious to have with shoulders kept down, and chests well 

1 In your little room) — Yer. 310. Though "cellulam " seems to be 
considered by some to mean " cupboard " or " larder." it is more pro- 
bable that it here signifies the little room which was appropriated to each 
slave in the family for his own use. 

g2 



84 eunuchus; Act II. 

girthed/ that they may be slender. If one is a little 
inclined to plumpness, they declare that she's training for 
a boxer, 2 and stint her food ; although their constitutions 
are good, by their treatment they make them as slight as 
bulrushes ; and so for that reason they are admired, for- 
sooth. 

Par. What sort of a girl is this one of yours ? 

Cele. A new style of beauty. 

Par. {ironically.) Astounding ! 

Ch^e. Her complexion genuine, 3 her flesh firm and full of 
juiciness. 4 

Par. Her age ? 

Ch.e. Her age ? Sixteen. 

Par. The very flower of youth. 5 

Ch^:. Do you make it your care to obtain her for me 
either by force, stealth, or entreaty ; so that I only gain 
her, it matters not how to me. 

} Shoulders kept down and chests well girthed) — Yer. 314. Ovid, in 
the Art of Love, B. iii., 1. 274, alludes to the "strophiuni " or " girth" 
here referred to : " For high shoulders, small pads are suitable ; and 
let the girth encircle the bosom that is too prominent." Becker thinks 
that the "strophium" was different from the " fascia" or "stomacher," 
mentioned in the Kemedy oi Love, 1. 338: "Does a swelling bosom 
cover all her breast, let no stomacher conceal it." From Martial we 
learn that the " strophium " was made of leather. 

2 Training for a I oxer) — Yer. 315. " Pugilem." This means 
" robust as a boxer," or " athlete." These persons were naturally 
considered as the types of robustness, being dieted for the purpose of 
increasing their flesh and muscle. 

3 Complexion genuine) — Yer. 318. " Color verus." The same 
expression is used by Ovid, in the Art of Love, B. iii., 1. 164 : "Et 
melior vero quaeritur arte color : " " And by art a colour is sought 
superior to the genuine one." 

4 Full of juiciness) — Yer. 318. " Succi plenum." A similar expres- 
sion occurs in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, 1. 787, where Peripleco- 
menus wishes enquiry to be made for a woman who is " siccam, at 
succidam," "sober, but full of juice : " i. e. replete with the plumpness 
and activity ol youth. 

5 The very flower of youth) — Yer. 319. Ovid makes mention of the 
" fios " or " bloom" of youth, Art o± Love, B. ii., 1. 663: "And don't you 
enquire what year she is now passing, nor under what Consulship she 
was born ; a privilege which the rigid Censor possesses. And this, 
especially, if she has passed the bloom of youth, and her best years are 
fled, and she now pulls out the whitening hairs." 



Sc. V. THE EUNUCH. 85 

Par. Well, but to whom does the damsel belong ? 

CniE. That, f faith, I don't know. 

Par. Whence did she come ? 

Chle. That, just as much. 

Par. Where does she live ? 

Ch^:. 2s"or yet do I know that. 

Par. Where did you see her ? 

Cble. In the street. 

Par. How did you come to lose her ? 

Ch.e. Why, that's what I was just now fretting myself 
about ; and I do not believe that there is one individual to 
whom all good luck is a greater stranger than to myself. 
What ill fortune this is ! I'm utterly undone ! 

Par. What's the matter ? 

Ch,e. Do you ask me ? Do you know Archidemides, my 
father's kinsman and years'-mate ? 

Par. Why not? 

Ch,e. He, while I was in full pursuit of her, met me. 

Par. Unseasonably, upon my faith. 

Ch^e. Aye, unhappily, rather; for other ordinary matters 
are to be called " unseasonable," Parmeno. It would be safe for 
me to make oath that I have not seen him for fully these six 
or seven months, until just now, when I least wanted, and 
there was the least occasion. Come now! isn't this like a 
fatality? What do you say? 

Par. Extremely so. 

Ch.e. At once he came running up to me, from a consider- 
able distance, stooping, palsied, hanging his lip, and wheezing. 
u Hallo, Chaerea ! hallo ! " said he ; u I've something to say 
to you." I stopped. "Do you know what it is I want 
with you?" said he. "Say on," said I. "To-morrow my 
cause comes on," said he. "What then?" "'Be sure and 
tell your father to remember and be my advocate 1 in the 

1 Be my advocate) — Yer. 340. " Advocatus." It must be remem- 
bered that this word did not among the Eomans bear the same sense as 
the word " advocate"' does with us. The "advocati" were the friends of a 
man who accompanied him when his cause was pleaded, and often per- 
formed the part of witnesses ; those who assisted a person in a dispute 
or difficulty were also his "' advocati," and in this respect distantly 
resembled the "' second" or "friend" of a party in the modem duel. In 
the Phormio, Hegio, Cratinus, and Crito are introduced as the "'advocati' 



86 EUNUCHUS j Act II. 

morning." In talking of this, an hour elapsed. 1 I enquired if 
he wanted anything else. " That's all/' said he. I left 
him. When I looked in this direction for the damsel, she 
had that very instant turned this way down this street 
of ours. 

Par. (aside.) It's a wonder if he doesn't mean her who has 
just now been made a present of to Thais here. 

Chje. When I got here, she was nowhere to be seen. 

Par. Some attendants, I suppose, were accompanying the 
girl? 

Chje. Yes ; a Parasite, and a female servant. 

Par. (apart.) It's the very same. (To Ch^erea.) It's all 
over with you ; make an end of it ; you've said your last. 3 

Ch.e. You are thinking about something else. 

Par. Indeed I'm thinking of this same matter. 

Ch^e. Pray, tell me, do you know her, or did you see 
her? 

Par. I did see, and I do know her; I am aware to what 
house she has been taken. 

Cele. What, my dear Parmeno, do you know her, and 
are you aware where she is? 

Par. She has been brought here (pointing) to the house of 
Thais the Courtesan. 3 She has been made a present to her. 

Ch^e. What opulent person is it, to be presenting a gift so 
precious as this ? 

Par. The Captain Thraso, Phaedria's rival. 

of Demipho. See also the Paenulus of Plautus, and the Notes to that 
Play in Bonn's Translation. 

1 An hour elapsed) — Yer. 341. "Hora" is here used to signify the 
long time, that, in his impatience, it appeared to him to be. 

2 It's all over with you, — you've said your last) — Yer. 347. "Ilicet" 
and " conclamatum est/' are words of mournful import, which were 
used with regard to the funeral rites of the Romans. " Ilicet," " you 
may begone," was said aloud when the funeral was concluded. " Concla- 
mare," implied the ceremony of calling upon the dead person by name, 
before light was set to the funeral pile ; on no answer being given, he 
was concluded to be really dead, and the pile was set fire to amid the 
cries of those present : " conclamatum est" would consequently signify 
that all hope has gone. 

3 Thais the Courtesan) — Yer. 352. Cooke remarks here, somewhat 
hypercritical ly as it would seem : " Thais is not called ' meretrix/ here 
opprobiously, but to distinguish her from other ladies of the same name, 
who were not of the same profession." 



Sc. Y. THE EUNUCH. 87 

Cele. An unpleasant business for my brother, it should 
seem. 

Par. Aye, and jf you did but know what present he is 
pitting against this present, you would say so still more. 

Ch.e. Troth now, what is it, pray ? 

Par. A Eunuch. 1 

Cum. What! that unsightly creature, pray, that he pur- 
chased yesterday, an old woman? 

Par. That very same. 

Ch^. To a certainty, the gentleman will be bundled out 
of doors, together with his present ; but I wasn't aware that 
this Thais is our neighbour. 

Par. It isn't long since she came. 

Ch^e. Unhappy wretch that I am! never to have seen her, 
even. Come now, just tell me, is she as handsome as she is 
reported to be? 2 

Par. Quite. 

Ch^e. But nothing in comparison with this damsel of mine? 

Par. Another thing altogether. 

Chje. Troth now, Parmeno, prithee do contrive for me to 
gain possession of her. 

Par. I'll do my best, and use all my endeavours ; I'll lend 
you my assistance. {Going) Do you want anything else 
with me ? 

Ch^:. Where are you going now? 

Par. Home ; to take those slaves to Thais, as your brother 
ordered me. 

Qb.m. Oh, lucky Eunuch that! really, to be sent as a 
present to that house! 

1 A Eunuch — Yer. 356. Eunuchs formed part of the establishment 
of wealthy persons, who, in imitation of the Eastern nobles, confided 
the charge of their wives, daughters, or mistresses to them. Though 
Thais would have no such necessity for his services, her wish to imitate 
the " reginse/' or " great ladies," would make him a not unacceptable 
present. See the Addresses of Ovid to the Eunuch Bagoiis in the 
Amours, B. ii., El. 2, 3. 

2 As she is reported to be) — Yer. 361. Donatus remarks this as an\ 
instance of the art of Terence, in preserving the probability of Chserea's 
being received for the Eunuch. He shows hereby that he is so entirely 
a stranger to the family that he does not even know the person of 
Thais. It is also added that she has not been long in the neighbour- 
hood, and he has been on duty at the Pirasus. The meaning of hia 
regret is, that, not knowing Thais, he will not have an opportunity of 
seeing the girl. 



88 EUNUCHUSj Act II., Sc. V. 

Par. Why so? 

Ch^e. Do you ask ? He will always see at home a fellow- 
servant of consummate beauty, and be conversing with her ; 
he will be in the same house with her ; sometimes he will 
take his meals with her ; sometimes sleep near her. 

Par. "What now, if you yourself were to be this fortunate 
person ? 

Ch,e. By what means, Parmeno? Tell me. 

Par. Do you assume his dress. 

Ch^e. His dress! Well, what then? 

Par. I'll take you there instead of him. 

Ch^:. (musing.) I hear you. 

Par. I'll say that you are he. 

Ch^e. I understand you. 

Par. You may enjoy those advantages which you just 
now said he would enjoy ; you may take your meals together 
with her, be in company with her, touch her, dally with 
her, and sleep by her side; as not one of these women is 
acquainted with you, nor yet knows who you are. Besides, 
you are of an age and figure that you may easily pass for a 
eunuch. 

Ch^e. You speak to the purpose ; I never knew better 
counsel given. Well, let's go in at once ; dress me up, take 
me away, lead me to her, as fast as you can. 

Par. What do you mean? Really, I was only joking. 

Ch,e. You talk nonsense. 

Par. I'm undone ! Wretch that I am ! what have I done ? 
(Ch^erea pushes him along.) Whither are you pushing me ? 
You'll throw me down presently. I entreat you, be quiet. 

Ch^. Let's be off. (Pushes him.) 

Par. Do you still persist ? 

Ch^e. I am resolved upon it. 

Par. Only take care that this isn't too rash a project. 

Ch^e. Certainly it isn't ; let me alone for that. 

Par. Aye, but I shall have to pay the penalty 1 for this ? 

Cbje. Pshaw! 

1 Have to pay the penalty) — Yer. 381. "In me cudetur faba," 
literally, "the bean will be struck" or "laid about me;" meaning, 
" I shall have to smart for it." There is considerable doubt what is the 
origin of this expression, and this doubt existed as early as the time of 
Donatus. He says that it was a proverb either taken from the threshing of 
beans with a flail by the countrymen ; or else from the circumstance of 



Act EEL, Sc. I. the eunuch. 89 

Pae. We shall be guilty of a disgraceful action. 

Ch,e. What, is it disgraceful 1 to be taken to the house of 
a Courtesan, and to return the compliment upon those tor- 
mentors who treat us and our youthful age so scornfully, and 
who are always tormenting us in every way ; — to dupe them 
just as we are duped by them ? Or is it right and proper 
that in preference my father should be wheedled out of his 
money by deceitful pretexts ? Those who knew of this would 
blame me ; while all would think the other a meritorious act. 

Pak. What's to be done in such case ? If you are deter- 
mined to do it, you must do it : but don't you by-and-by be 
throwing the blame upon me. 

Ch^e. I shall not do so. 

Pae. Do you order me, then? 

Ch^e. I order, charge, and command you; I will never 
disavow my authorizing you. 

Pae. Follow me ; may the Gods prosper it ! {They go into 
the house of Laches.) 



ACT THE THIED. 

Scene I. 
Enter Theaso and Gnatho. 

Thea. Did Thais really return me many thanks ? 

Gxa. Exceeding thanks. 

Thea. Was she delighted, say you ? 

Gxa. Not so much, indeed, at the present itself, as because 
it was given by you • really, in right earnest, she does exult 
at that. 

the cooks ■who have dressed the beans, but have not moistened them suffi- 
ciently, being sure to have them thrown at their heads, as though for 
the purpose of softening them. Neither of these solutions seems so 
probable as that suggested by Madame Dacier, that dried beans were 
inserted in the thongs of the " scuticaa," or " whips," with which the 
slaves were beaten. According to others the knots in the whips were 
only called "fabae," from their resemblance to beans. 

1 Is it disgraceful) — Ver. 382. Donatus remarks that here Terence 
obliquely defends the subject of the Play. 



90 euotceus; Act III. 

Enter Pabmeno unseen, from Laches' house. 

Par. {apart.) I've come here to be on the look-out. that 
when there is an opportunity I may take the presents. But 
see, here's the Captain. 

Thra. Undoubtedly it is the case with me, that everything 
I do is a cause for thankfulness. 

Gna. Upon my faith, I've observed it. 

Thra. The most mighty King, 1 even, always used to give me 
especial thanks for whatever I did ; but not so to others. 

Gna. He who has the wit that you have, often by his 
words appropriates to himself the glory that has been achieved 
by the labour of others. 

Thra. You've just hit it. 2 

Gna. The king, then, kept you in his eye. 3 

Thra. Just so. 

Gna. To enjoy your society, 

Thra. True ; he entrusted to me all his army, all his state 
secrets. 

1 The most mighty King) — Ver. 397. It has been suggested that 
Darius III. is here alluded to, who was a contemporary of Menander. 
As however Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, is mentioned in this Play, there 
is no necessity to go out of the way to make Terence guilty of an 
anachronism. Madame Dacier suggests that Seleucus, king of part of 
Asia Minor, is meant; and as Thraso is called "a stranger' ' or 
u foreigner " towards the end of the Play, he probably was intended to 
be represented as a native of Asia and a subject of Seleucus. One of 
the Seleuci was also favoured with the services of Pyrgopolinices, the 
"Braggart Captain" of Plautus, in the Miles Gloriosus. See 1. 75 
in that Play : " For King Seleucus entreated me with most earnest suit 
that I would raise and enlist recruits for him." 

2 You've just hit it) — Yer. 401. Colman here remarks, quoting the 
following passage from Shakspeare's " Love's Labour Lost," " That that 
Poet was familiarly acquainted with this Comedy is evident from the 
passage, i Holofernes says, Novi hominem tanquam te. His humour 
is lofty, his discourse peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, 
his gait majestical, and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and 
Thrasonical.' " We may remark that the previous words of Gnatho, 
though spoken with reference to the King, contain a reproach against 
the Captain's boastfulness, though his vanity will not let him perceive it. 

3 In Ms eye) — Yer. 401. "In oculis" is generally supposed to 
mean "as dearly in his eyes." As, however, the Satraps of the East 
were called "the king's eyes," those who suppose that Darius is alluded 
to, might with some ground consider the passage as meaning that the 
king ranked him in the number of his nobles. See the Psenulus of 
Plautus, 1. 693, and the Note in Bonn's Translation. 



Sc. I. THE EUNUCH. 91 

Gna. Astonishing! 

Thra. Then if, on any occasion, a surfeit of society, or a 
dislike of business, came upon him, when he was desirous to 
take some recreation ; just as though — you understand? 1 

Gna. I know; just as though on occasion he would rid 
his mind of those anxieties. 

Thra. You have it. Then he used to take me aside as 
his only boon companion. 

Gna. Whew ! You are telling of a King of refined taste, 

Thra. Aye, he is a person of that sort ; a man of but very 
few acquaintanceships. 

Gna. {aside.) Indeed, of none, 2 1 fancy, if he's on intimate 
terms with you. 

Thra. All the people envied me, and attacked me privately. 
I didn't care one straw. They envied me dreadfully; but 
one in particular, whom the King had appointed over the 
Indian elephants. 3 Once, when he became particularly trou- 
blesome, " Prithee, Strato," said I, " are you so fierce because 
you hold command over the wild beasts?" 

Gna. Cleverly said, upon my faith, and shrewdly. Astound- 
ing ! You did give the fellow a home thrust. What said he ? 

Thra. Dumbfounded, instantaneously. 

Gna. How coiild he be otherwise ? 

Par. {apart}) Ye Gods, by our trust in you ! a lost and 
miserable fellow the one, and the other a scoundrel. 

Thra. Well then, about that matter, Gnatho, the way in 
which I touched up the Phoclian at a banquet — did I never 
tell you ? 

1 You understand) — Yer. 405. He says this at the very moment 
when he is at a loss what to say next ; the Parasite obligingly steps in 
to help him out with the difficulty. 

£ Indeed, of none) — Yer. 410. "Immo, nullorum arbitror, si tecum 
vivit." This expression which is used " aside/' has two meanings, 
neither of which is complimentary to the Captain. It may mean, " he 
has no society if he associates with you/' making the Captain equivalent 
to nobody ; or it may signify, " if he associates with you hell be sure to 
drive all his other acquaintances away." 

3 Over the Indian elephants) — Yer. 413. Here he shows his lofty 
position to perfection ; he dares to take down the pride of one who com- 
manded even the royal elephants. The Braggart Captain of Plautus 
comes into collision with the elephants themselves : 1. 26. Artotrogus 
says to him, " In what a fashion it was you broke the fore leg of even an 
elephant in India with your fist !" 



92 eunuchus; Act III. 

Gna. Never; but pray, do tell me. (Aside.) I've heard 
it more than a thousand times already. 

Thra. There was in my company at a banquet, this young 
man of Rhodes, whom I'm speaking of. By chance I had a 
mistress there ; he began to toy with her, and to annoy me. 
" What are you doing, sir impudence ?" said I to the fellow ; 
" a hare yourself, and looking out for game ?" * 

Gna. (pretending to laugh very heartily.) Ha, ha, ha ! 

Thra. What's the matter ? 

Gna. How apt, how smart, how clever; nothing could he 
more excellent. Prithee, was this a saying of yours ? I 
fancied it was an old one. 

Thra. Did you ever hear it before ? 

Gxa. Many a time ; and it is mentioned among the first- 
rate ones. 

Thra. It's my own. 

Gna. I'm sorry though that it was said to a thoughtless 
young man, and one of respectability. 

Par. {apart.) May the Gods confound you ! 

Gxa. Pray, what did he do ? 

Thra. Quite disconcerted. All who were present were 
dying with laughter ; in short, they were all quite afraid of me. 

Gxa. Not without reason. 

Thra. But hark you, had I best clear myself of this to 
Thais, as to her suspicion that I'm fond of this girl ? 

Gxa. By no means : on the contrary, rather increase her 
jealousy. 

Thra. Why so? 

Gna. Do you ask me ? Don't you see, if on any occasion 
she makes mention of Phsedria or commends him, to provoke 
you 

1 Looking out for game ?) — Yer. 426. <( Pulmentum," more strictly 
speaking, " A nice bit." Patrick has the following Note on this 
passage : " ' Lepus tute es. et pulmentum qu^eris V A proverbial ex- 
pression in use at that time : the proper meaning of it, stripped of its 
figure, is, i You are little more than a woman yourself, and do you want a 
mistress % ' " We learn from Donatus and Yopiscus, that Livius Androni- 
cus had used this proverb in his Plays before Terence. Commentators 
who enter into a minute explanation of it offer many conjectures rather 
curious than solid, and of a nature not fit to be mentioned here. Donatus 
seems to think that allusion is made to a story prevalent among the 
ancient naturalists that the hare was in the habit of changing its sex. 



Sc. II. THE EUmiCH. 93 

Thra. I understand. 

Gna. That such may not be the case, this method is the 
only remedy. When she speaks of Phaedria, do you instantly 
mention Pamphila. If at any time she says, " Let's invite 
Phaedria to make one/' do you say, ''-Let's ask Pamphila 
to sing." If she praises his good looks, do you, on the other 
hand, praise hers. In short, do you return like for like, 
which will mortify her. 

Thra. If, indeed, she loved me, 1 this might be of some use, 
Gnatho. 

Gna. Since she is impatient for and loves that which 
you give her, she already loves you; as it is, tlien, it is an 
easy matter for her to feel vexed. She will be always afraid 
lest the presents which she herself is nov/ getting, you may 
on some occasion be taking elsewhere. 

Thra. Well said ; that never came into my mind. 

Gna. Nonsense. You never thought about it ; else how 
much more readily would you yourself have hit upon it, 
Thraso ! 

Scene II. 

Enter TnAisfrom Tier house, attended by Pythias. 

Thais, (as she comes out.) I thought I just now heard the 
Captain's voice. And look, here he is. Welcome, my dear 
Thraso. 

Thra. my Thais, my sweet one, how are you ? How 
much do you love me in return for that music girl ? 

Par. (apart?) How polite! What a beginning he has 
made on meeting her ! 

Thais. Very much, as you deserve. 

Gxa. Let's go to dinner then. (To Thraso.) What do you 
stand here for ? 

Par., (apart.) Then there's the other one : you would 
declare that he was born for his belly's sake. 

1 If, indeed, she loved me) — Ver. 446. Colman has the following 
Note upon this passage :" I am at a loss to determine whether it was in 
order to show the absurdity of the Captain or from inadvertence in the 
Poet, that Terence here makes Thraso and Gnatho speak in contradic- 
tion to the idea of Thais's wonderful veneration for Thraso, with which 
they opened the Scene." 



94 eunuchus; Act III. 

Thea. When yon please ; I shan't delay. 

Pak. {apart.) I'll accost them, and pretend as though I 
had just come out. (He comes forward?) Are you going any- 
where, Thais? 

Thais. Ha! Parmeno ; well done ;just going out for the day. 

Par. Where! 

Thais, (aside, pointing at Thraso.) Why ! don't you see 
him ? 

Par. (aside.) I see him, and I'm sorry for it. (Aloud.) 
Phsedria's presents are ready for you when you please. 

Thra. (impatiently.) Why are we to stand here ? Why 
don't we be off ? 

Par. (to Thraso.) Troth now, pray, do let us, with your 
leave, present to her the things we intend, and accost and 
speak to her. 

Thra. (ironically.) Very fine presents, I suppose, or at 
least equal to mine. 

Par. The fact will prove itself. (Goes to the door of Laches' 
house and calls.) Ho there ! bid those people come out of 
doors at once, as I ordered. 

Enter from the house a Black, Girl. 

Par. Do you step forward this way. (To Thais.) She comes 
all the way from ^Ethiopia. 

Thra. (contemptuously.) Here are some three minaD in 
value. 

Gn"A. Hardly so much. 

Par. Where are you, Dorus ? Step this way. 

Enter QH.MKE&from the house, dressed like the Eunuch. 

Par. There's a Eunuch for you — of what a genteel appear- 
ance ! of what a prime age ! 

Thais. God bless me, he's handsome. 

Par. What say you, Gnatho ? Do you see anything to 
find fault with ? And what say you, Thraso ? (Aside.) They 
hold their tongues ; they praise him sufficiently thereby. (To 
Thais.) Make trial of him in literature, try him in exercises, 1 

1 In exercises) — Yer. 477. Beference will be found made to the 
" palaestrae/' or " places of exercise," in the Notes to the Translation of 
Plautus. 



Sc. II. THE EUNUCH. 95 

and in music ; I'll warrant him well skilled in what it becomes 
a gentleman to know. 

Thea. That Eunuch, if occasion served/ even in my sober 
senses, I 

Par. And he who has sent these things makes no request 
that you will live for him alone, and that for his own sake 
others may be excluded ; he neither tells of battles nor 
shows his scars, nor does he restrict you as (looking at 
Thraso) a certain person does ; but when it is not inconve- 
nient, whenever you think fit, whenever you have the time, 
he is satisfied to be admitted. 

Thra. (to Gxatho, contemptuously}) It appears that this 
is the servant of some beggarly, wretched master. 

Gxa. Why, faith, no person, I'm quite sine of that, could 
possibly put up with him, who had the means to get another. 

Par. You hold your tongue — a fellow whom I consider 
beneath all men of the very lowest grade : for when you 
can bring yourself to flatter that fellow (pointing at Thraso), 
I do believe you could pick your victuals out of the very 
flames. 2 

Thra. Are we to go now ? 

Thais. I'll take these in-doors first (pointing to Chorea 
and tlie Ethiopian), and at the same time I'll order what 
I wish ; after that I'll return immediately. ( Goes into the 
house with Pythias, Chorea, and the Slave.) 

Thra. (to Gxatho). I shall be off. Do you wait for her. 

Par. It is not a proper thing for a general to be walk- 
ing in the street with a mistress. 

Thra. Why should I use many words with you ? You are 
the very ape of your master. (Exit Par^iexo. 

Gxa. (laughing.) Ha, ha, ha ! 

1 If occasion served.) — Yer. 479. The Aposiopesis in this line is 
very aptly introduced, on account of the presence of the female; 
but it admirably illustrates the abominable turpitude of the speaker 
and perhaps in a somewhat more decent manner than that in which 
Plautus attributes a similar tendency to his Braggart Captain, 1. 1111. 

2 Out of the very flames) — Yer. 491. This was a proverb expressive 
of the lowest degree of meanness and infamy. When they burned the 
bodies ot the dead, it was the custom of the ancients to throw meat and 
various articles of food upon the funeral pile, and it was considered the 
greatest possible affront to tell a person that he was capable of snatch- 
ing these thiDgs out of the flames. 



96 euntjchus; Act IIL 

Thra. What are you laughing at ? 

Gka. At what you were mentioning just now ; that 
saying, too, about the Rhodian, recurred to my mind. But 
Thais is coming out. 

Thra. You go before ; take care that every thing is ready 
at home. 

Gna. Yery welL (Exit. 

Ee-enter Thais, with Pythias and Female Attendants. 

Thais. Take care, Pythias, and be sure that if Chremes 
should happen to come, 1 to beg him to wait ; if that is not 
convenient, then to come again ; if he cannot do that, bring 
him to me. 

Pyth. I'll do so. 

Thais. Well, what else was I intending to say? O, do you 
take particular care of that young woman ; be sure that 
you keep at home. 

Thra. Let us begone. 

Thais, (to her attendants.) You follow me. (Exetmt 
Thais and Thraso, folloived by the Attendants. Pythias^s 
into the house.) 

Scene III. 

Enter Chremes. 

Chrem. (to himself?) Why, really, the more and more I 
think of it, I shouldn't be surprised if this Thais should be 
doing me some great mischief ; so cunningly do I perceive 
myself beset by her. Even on the occasion when she first 
requested me to be fetched to her (any one might ask me, 
" What business had you with her ?" Really I don't 
know.) When I came, she found an excuse for me to 
remain there ; she said that she had been offering a sacri- 
fice, 2 and that she was desirous to speak upon some im- 
portant business with me. Even then I had a suspicion 

1 If Chremes should happen to come) — Yer. 501. This is the first 
allusion to the arrangement which ultimately causes the quarrel between 
Thais and the Captain. 

2 Had been offering a sacrifice) — Yer. 513. It was the custom to 
sacrifice before entering on affairs of importance. Thus, too, Jupiter, 
in the Amphitryon of Plautus, 1. 938, speaks of offering sacrifice on 
his safe return. 



Sc. IV. THE EUXUCH. 97 

that all these things were being done for her artful purposes. 
She takes her place beside me ; pays every attention to me ; 
seeks an opportunity of conversation. When the conversation 
flagged, she turned off to this point — how long since my 
father and mother died ? I said that it was now a long time 
ago. Whether I had any country-house at Stinium, and how 
far from the sea ? I suppose that this has taken her fancy, 
and she expects to get it away from me. Then at last, 
whether any little sister of mine had been lost from there ; 
whether any person was with her ; what she had about her 
when she was lost ; whether any one could recognize her. 
Why should she make these enquiries ? Unless, perhaps, she 
pretends — so great is her assurance — that she herself is the 
same person that was formerly lost when a little girl. But if 
she is alive, she is sixteen years old, not older; whereas 
Thais is somewhat older than I am. She has sent to press 
me earnestly to come. Either let her speak out what she 
wants, or not be troublesome ; I assuredly shall not come a 
third time (knocking at the door of Thais). Ho ! there, 
ho ! there ! Is any one here ? It's I, Chremes. 



Scexe IV. 
Enter Pythias from the house. 

Pyth. O most charming, dear creatine ! 

Chrem. (apart.) I said there was a design upon me. 

Pyth. Thais entreated you most earnestly to come again 
to-morrow. 

Chrem. I'm going into the country. 

Pyth. Do, there's a dear sir. 

Chrem. I cannot, I tell you. 

Pyth. Then stay here at our house till she comes back. 

Chrem. Nothing less likely. 

Pyth. Why, my dear Chremes? (Taking hold of him.) 

Chrem. (shaking her off.) Away to perdition with you ! 

Pyth. If you are so determined about it, pray do step 
over to the place where she is. 

Chrem. I'll go there. 

H 



98 eunuchus; Act III. 

Pyth. {calling at the door.) Here, Dorias (Dorias enters), 
show this person directly to the Captain's. 

(Exit Chremes with Dorias, Pythias goes into the house. 



Scene Y. 

Enter Antipho. 

Ant. (to himself?) Yesterday some young fellows of us 
agreed together at the Piraeus that we were to go shares to- 
day in a club-entertainment. We gave Chorea charge of this 
matter; our rings were given 1 as pledges; the place and time 
arranged. The time has now gone by ; at the place appointed 
there was nothing ready. The fellow himself is nowhere to 
he met with ; I neither know what to say nor what to sup- 
pose. Now the rest have commissioned me with this busi- 
ness, to look for him. I'll go see, therefore, if he's at home. 
But who's this, I wonder, coming out of Thais's ? Is it he, 
or is it not ? 'Tis the very man ! What sort of being is 
this ? What kind of garb is this ? What mischief is going 
on now ? I cannot sufficiently wonder or conjecture. But, 
whatever it is, I should like first at a distance to try and 
find out. (He stands apart) 

Scene YI. 

Enter Ceuerea from the house of Thais, in the Eunuch's 

dress. 

ChtE. (looking around, then aloud to himself) Is there 
anybody here ? There's no one. Is there any one following 
me from there ? There's not a person. Now am I not at 
liberty to give vent to these raptures ? O supreme Jupiter! 

1 Our rings were given) — Yer. 541. It was the custom of parties 
who agreed to join in a "symbola," or "club " or "pic-nic " entertain- 
ment, to give their rings as pledges to the "rex eonvivii," or "getter 
up the feast." Stakes were also deposited on making bets at races. 
See Ovid's Art of Love, B. L, 1. 168. 



Sc. VI. THE EUNUCH. 99 

new assuredly is the time for me to meet my death, 1 when I 
can so well endure it ; lest my life should sully this ecstacy 
with some disaster. But is there now no inquisitive person to 
be intruding upon me, to be following me wherever I go, 
to be deafening me, worrying me to death, with asking ques- 
tions; why thus transported, or why so overjoyed, whither I'm 
going, whence I'm come, where I got this garb, what is my 
object, whether I'm in my senses or whether downright mad ? 

Axt. {apart) I'll accost him, and I'll do him the favour 
which I see he's wishing for. {Accosting liim) Chaerea, 
why are you thus transported ? What's the object of this 
garb? Why is it that you're so overjoyed? What is the 
meaning of this ? Are you quite right in your senses ? Why 
do you stare at me ? What have you to say ? 

Oils. O joyous day! O welcome, my Mend! There's 
not one in all the world whom I would rather wish to see 
at this moment than yoiu^self. 

Ant. Pray, do tell me what all this means. 

Ch.e. Nay rather, i'faith, I beg of you to listen to me. 
Do you know the mistress whom my brother is so fond of ? 

Axt. I know her ; I suppose you mean Thais ? 

Chrem. The very same. 

Ant. So far I recollect. 

Chje. To-day a certain damsel was presented to her. 
Why now should I extol or commend her beauty to you, 
Antipho, since you yourself know how nice a judge of beauty 
I am ? I have been smitten by her. 

Axt. Do you say so ? 

Ch,e, If you saw her, I am sure you would say she's 
exquisite. What need of many words ? I fell in love with 
her. By good luck there was at our house a certain Eunuch, 
whom my brother had purchased for Thais, and he had not 
as yet been sent to her. On this occasion, Parmeno, our 
servant, made a suggestion to me, which I adopted. 

1 To meet my death) — Yer. 550. There is a passage in the Othello 
of Shakspeare extremely similar to this : 

" If I were now to die, 

I were now to be most happy ; for, I fear, 
My soul hath her content so absolute, 
That not another comfort, like to this, 
Succeeds in unknown fate." 

h3 



100 eunuchus; Act III. 

Ant. What was it ? 

Chje. Be quiet, and you shall hear the sooner ; to 
change clothes with him, and order myself to be taken 
there in his stead. 

Ant. What, instead of the Eunuch ? 

Chme. The fact. 

Ant. To receive what advantage, pray, from this plan ? 

Ckle. Do you ask ? That I might see, hear, and be in 
company with her whom I loved, Antipho. Is that a slight 
motive, or a poor reason ? I was presented to the woman. 
She, as soon as she received me, joyfully took me home to 
her house and entrusted the damsel 

Ant. To whom ? To you ? 

Ch,e. To me. 

Ant. (ironically.) In perfect safety, at all events. 

Qtlm. She gave orders that no male was to come near 
her, and commanded me not to stir away from her ; that I 
was to remain alone with her in the inner apartments. 1 
Looking bashfully on the ground, I nodded assent. 

Ant. (ironically.) Poor fellow ! 

Ckje. (continuing.) " I am going out," said she, " to dinner." 
She took her maids with her; a few novices of girls 2 re- 
mained, to be about her. These immediately made prepara- 
tions for her to bathe. I urged them to make haste. While 
preparations were being made, the damsel sat in a room 
looking up at a certain painting, 3 in which was represented 
how Jove 4 is said once to have sent a golden shower into the 
bosom of Danae. I myself began to look at it as well, and 

1 In the inner apartments) — Yer. 579. The " Gynecsea," or women's 
apartments, among the Greeks, always occupied the interior part of the 
house, which was most distant from the street, and there they were 
kept in great seclusion. 

2 A few novices of girls) — Ver. 582. These " novicise " were young 
slaves recently bought, and intended to be trained to the calling of a 
Courtesan. 

3 At a certain painting) — Yer. 584. See the story of Jupiter and 
Danae, the daughter of Acrisius, king of Argos, in the Metamorphoses 
of Ovid, B. iv., 1. 610. Pictures of Yenus and Adonis, and of Jupiter 
and Ganymede, are mentioned in the Menaechmi of Plautus; 1. 144, and 
paintings on the walls are also mentioned in the Mostellaria of Plautus, 
1. 821, where Tranio tries to impose upon Theuropides by pretending 
to point out a picture of a crow between two vultures. 

4 How Jove) — Yer. 584. Donatus remarks here that this was " a very 



Sc. VI. THE EUNUCH. 101 

as he had in former times played the like game, I felt 
extremely delighted that a God should change himself into 
money, and slily come through the tiles of another person's 
house, to deceive the fair one by means of a shower. But 
what God was this? He who shakes the most lofty temples 
of heaven with his thunders. "Was I, a poor creature of a 
mortal, 1 not to do the same ? Certainly, I was to do it, and 
without hesitation. While I was thinking over these matters 
with myself, the damsel meantime was fetched away to bathe ; 
she went, bathed, and came back • after which they laid her 
on a couch. I stood waiting to see if they gave me any 
orders. One came up, " Here, Doras," said she, " take this 
fan, 2 and let her have a little air in this fashion, while we 
are bathing ; when we have bathed, if you like, you may 
bathe too." With a demure air I took it. 

Ant. .Really, I should very much have liked to see that 
impudent face of yours just then, and what figure a great 
donkey like you made, holding a fan ! 

Ch.e. (continuing.) Hardly had she said this, when all, in a 
moment, betook themselves off : away they went to bathe, and 
chattered aloud; 3 just as the way is when masters are absent. 
Meanwhile, sleep overtook the damsel ; I slily looked askance 4 

proper piece of furniture for the house of a Courtesan, giving an 
example of loose and mercenary love, calculated to excite wanton 
thoughts, and at the same time hinting to the young lover that he must 
make his way to the bosom of his mistress, like Jupiter to Danae, in a 
shower of gold. Oh the avarice of harlots !" 

1 A poor creature of a mortal) — Ver. 591. "Homuncio." He uses 
this word the better to contrast his abject nature as a poor mortal with 
the majesty ot Jupiter. St. Augustin refers to this passage. The pre- 
ceding line is said by Donatus to be a parody on a passage by Eunius. 

2 Take this Jan) — Yer. 595. As to the fans of the ancients, see the 
Trinummus of Plautus, 1. 252, and the Xote to the passage in Bonn's 
Translation. See also the Amours of Ovid, B. iii., El. 2, 1. 38. 

6 Chattered aloud) — Yer. 600. This line bears a strong resemblance 
to two lines found in Anstey's new Bath Guide : 

u And how the young ladies all set up their clacks, 
All the while an old woman was rubbing their backs." 
4 / slily looked askance) — Yer. 601. This way of looking aside, 
" limis/' is mentioned in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, where Mil- 
phidippa tells Acroteleutium to look at the Captain sideways, " Aspicito 
limis," 1. 1217; also in the Bacchides, 1. 1131. Those familiar with 
the works of Hogarth will readily call to mind the picture of Bedlam 



102 eunuchus; Act III, Sc. VL 

through tlie fan; 1 this way (showing how) : at the same time 
I looked round in all directions, to see whether all was quite 
safe. I saw that it was. I bolted the door. 

Ant. What then ? 

Ch^:. Eh ? What then, you simpleton ? 

Ant. I own I am. 

Ch.e. Was I to let slip the opportunity offered me, so excel- 
lent, so short-lived, 2 so longed-for, so unexpected. In that 
case, i'faith, I really should have been the person I was 
pretending to be. 

Ant. Troth, you certainly are in the right ; but, meantime, 
what has been arranged about the club-entertainment ? 

Qb.m. All's ready. 

Ant. You are a clever hand ; but where ? At your house ? 

Ch^e. No, at Discus's, our freedman. 

Ant. That's a long way off. 

Cele. Then let's make so much the greater haste. 

Ant. Change your dress. 

Ch^e. Where am I to change it ? I'm at a loss ; for at 
present I'm an exile from home ; I'm afraid of my brother, 
lest he should be in-doors : and then again of my father, lest 
he should have returned from the country by this. 

Ant. Let's go to my house ; there is the nearest place for 
you to change. 

Ch^e. You say right. Let's be off; besides, I want to 
take counsel with you about this girl, by what means I may 
be able to secure the future possession of her. 

Ant. Yery well. (Exeunt 

in the Rake's Progress, where the young woman is looking askance 
through her fan at the madman in his cell. 

1 Through the fan)—Ver. 602. This shows that the fan was pro- 
bably one made of thin boards, and not of feathers. 

2 So short-lived)— Yer. 605. Colman has the following Note here : 
" Short indeed, considering the number of incidents, which, according 
to Chaerea's relation, are crowded into it. All the time allowed for this 
adventure is the short space between the departure of Thais and Thraso 
and the entrance of Chserea; so that all this variety of business of 
sleeping, bathing, ravishing, &c., is despatched during the two soliloquies 
of Antipho and Chaerea, and the short Scene between Chremes and 
Pythias. The truth is, that a very close adherence to the unities often 
drives the Poet into as great absurdities as the perfect violation of 
them." 



Act IV., Sc. I. THE EUNUCH. 103 



ACT THE FOUKTH. 
Scene I. 

Enter Dorias, with a casket in Tier hand. 

Dorias. (to herself.) So may the Gods bless me, but 
from what I have seen, I'm terribly afraid that this mad 
fellow will be guilty of some disturbance to-day or of 
some violence to Thais. For when this young man, the 
brother of the damsel, arrived, she begged the Captain 
to order him to be admitted; he immediately began to get 
into a passion, and yet didn't dare refuse ; Thais still insisted 
that he would invite the man in. This she did for the sake 
of detaining him ; because there was no opportunity just 
then of telling him what she wanted to disclose about her 
sister. He was invited in, and took his seat. Then she 
entered into discoiu-se with him. But the Captain, fancying 
it was a rival brought before his very eyes, wanted in his turn 
to mortify her : " Hark you, boy," said he, " go fetch Pamphila, 
that she may amuse us here." She exclaimed, " At a banquet! 
Certainly not." The Captain still persisted to a downright 
quarrel. Meanwhile my mistress secretly took off her golden 
jewels, 1 and gave them to me to take away : this is a sign, I'm 
sure, that she'll betake herself from there as soon as she 
possibly cam 

(Goes into the house. 

1 Took off her golden jewels) — Ver. 627. This was probably because 
it was contrary to the laws of Athens for a Courtesan to appear with 
gold or jewels in the street. Madame Dacier suggests another reason, 
in which there is some force, although it is ridiculed by Cooke. Thais 
may have supposed that the Captain, when irritated, might not have 
scrupled to take them away from her. Indeed, nothing would be 
more probable, than that he would be ready to take them by way of 
security for the return of the slave, whom he had thus, to no purpose, 
presented to her. In reference to the preceding line, we may remark 
that it was not customary among the Greeks lor females of good cha- 
racter to appear at table with strangers. 



104: eunuchus; Act IV. 

SCEXE II. 

Enter Ph^sdria. 

Ph,ed. (to himself.) While I was going l into the country, 
I began on the road, as it mostly happens when there is any 
anxiety on the mind, to reflect with myself upon one thing 
after another, and upon everything in the worst light. What 
need of words ? While I was musing thus, inadvertently I 
passed my country-house. I had already got some distance 
from it, when I perceived this ; I returned again, really feeling 
quite uneasy ; when I came to the very turning that leads to 
the house, I came to a stop, and began to reason with myself; 
u What ! must I stay here alone for two days without her ? 
Well, and what then ? It's nothing at all. What ? Nothing 
at all ? Well now, if I haven't the privilege of touching 
her, am I not even to have that of seeing her ? If I may 
not do the one, at least I may the other. Surely to love 
at a distance 2 even, is better than nothing at all." I purposely 
passed the house. But how's this, that Pythias is suddenly 
hurrying out in such a fright ? (Stands apart.) 

Scene III. 

Enter Pythias and Dorias in haste from the house of Thais. 

Pyth. (aloud.) Where, wretch that 1 am, shall I find 
this wicked and impious fellow ? Or where look for him ? 

1 While I was going) — Ver. 629. Donatus remarks that here the Poet 
artfully finds a reason to bring Phsedria back again ; as he at first with 
equal art sent him out of the way, to give probability to those incidents 
necessary to happen in his absence. 

2 At a distance) — Ver. 640. " Extreme linea\" There have been 
many suggestions offered for the origin of this figurative expression. 
Some suggest that it alludes to the last or lowest stage of the supposed 
ladder of love ; others that it refers to the first or elementary line traced 
by the student, when beginning to learn the art of painting. It is 
however more generally thought to be a metaphor taken from the 
chariot-races in the Circus, where, in going round the turning-place, 
he who was nearest was said "currere in prima linea;" the next, "in 
secunda ;" and so on to the last, who took the widest range, and was 
said to run " in extrema linea." 



Sc. III. THE EUNUCH. 105 

That he should dare to commit so audacious a crime as 
this ! I'm ruined outright ! 

Ph^ed. (apart.) I dread what this may be. 

Pyth. Besides too, the villain, after he had abused the 
girl, rent all the poor thing's clothes, and tore her hair as 
well. 

Ph.ed. (apart, in surprise!) Ha ! 

Pyth. If he were just now in my reach, how eagerly 
would I fly at that villain's eyes with my nails ! 

Ph^ed. (apart.) Really I can't imagine what disturbance 
has happened to us at home in my absence. I'll accost 
them. (Going up to them.) What's the matter? Why in 
such haste ? Or whom are you looking for, Pythias ? 

Pyth. Why, Phaedria, whom should I be looking for ? 
Away with you, as you deserve, with such fine presents of 
yours. 

Phjed. What is the matter ? 

Pyth. What, do you ask? The Eunuch you gave us, 
what confusion he has caused. He has ravished the girl 
whom the Captain made present of to my mistress. 

Ph^ed. What is it you say ? 

Pyth. I'm ruined outright ! 

Ph^ed. You are drunk. 

Pyth. I wish that they were so, who wish ill to me. 

D ori as. Oh, prithee, my dear Pythias, what a monstrous 
thing this is ! 

Ph.ed. You are out of your senses. How could a Eunuch 
possibly do this ? 

Pyth. I know nothing about him : as to what he has done, 
the thing speaks for itself. The girl is in tears; and when 
you ask her what's the matter, she does not dare tell. But 
he, a precious fellow, is nowhere to be seen. To my sorrow 
I suspect too, that when he took himself off he carried 
something away from the house. 

PHiED. I cannot enough wonder, whither this varlet 
can possibly have betaken himself to any distance from 
here ; unless perhaps he has returned home to our house. 

Pyth. Pray, go and see whether he is there. 

Ph^ed. I'll let you know immediately. (Goes into the 
house of Laches.) 



106 eunuchus; Act .IV 

Dorias. Ruined outright! Prithee, my dear, I never did 
so much as hear of a deed so abominable ! 

Pyth. Why, faith, I had heard that they were extremely 
fond of the women, but were incapable ; unfortunately ivhat 
has happened never came into my mind; otherwise I should 
have shut him up somewhere, and not have entrusted the 
girl to him. 

SCESE IV. 

Enter Ph^edria from the house of Laches, with Dorus in 

Chorea's clothes. 

PhvED. {dragging him out) Come out, you villain ! What, 
do you lag behind, you runaway ? Out with you, you sorry 
bargain ! 

Dorus. {crying out) Mercy, I do entreat you! 

Ph^ed. Oh, do look at that ! How the villain distorts 
his face. What means your coming back hither ? Why this 
change of dress? What have you to say? If I had 
delayed a moment, Pythias, I shouldn't have found him at 
home : he had just prepared, in this fashion, for flight. 
{pointing at his dress). 

Pyth. Have you caught the fellow, pray ? 

Ph^d. Caught him, why not ? 

Pyth. O well done ! 

Dorias. Upon my faith that really is capital ! 

Pyth. Where is he ? 

Ph^d. Do you ask the question? Don't you see him? 
{Pointing to the Eunuch.) 

Pyth. {staring about) See whom, pray ? 

Ph^d. This fellow, to be sure {pointing). 

Pyth. What person is this ? 

Ph^ed. The same that was brought to your house to-day. 

Pyth. Not one of our people has ever beheld this person 
with her eyes, Phsedria. 

Ph^ed. Not beheld him ? 

Pyth. Prithee, did you fancy that this was he who was 
brought to our house? 

Ph^d. Why, I had no other. 



Sc. IV. THE EUNUCH. 107 

Pyth. O dear! this one really isn't to be compared with 
the other. He was of a handsome and genteel appear- 
ance. 

Ph^ed. He seemed so, just then, because he was decked 
out in parti-coloured clothes '} now he appears ugly, for this 
reason — because he hasn't got them on. 

Pyth. Prithee, do hold your tongue ; as though indeed the 
difference was so trifling. A young man was brought to our 
house to-day, whom, really, Phaedria, you would have liked 
to look upon. This is a withered, antiquated, lethargic, old 
fellow, with a speckled complexion. 2 

Ph^ed. (starting.) Hah ! What tale is this ? You'll so 
befool me that I shan't know what I bought. (To Dorus.) 
How now, sirrah, did I not buy you ? 

Dorus. You did buy me. 

Pyth. Bid him answer me in my turn. 

Ph^:d. Question Mm. 

Pyth. (to Dorus.) Did you come here to-day to our 
house ? (Dorus shakes Ms head.) He says, no. But it was 
the other one that came, about sixteen years of age ; whom 
Parmeno brought with him. 

Ph^ed. (to Dorus.) Well now, in the first place tell me 
this, where did you get that dress that you have on ? What, 
are you silent ? Monster of a fellow, are you not going to 
speak? (Shakes Mm.) 

Dorus. Chaerea came. 

Ph^ed. What, my brother ? 

Dorus. Yes. 

Phjsd. When? 

Dorus. To-day. 

Ph.ed. How long since ? 

Dorus. Just now. 

Ph^ed. With whom ? 

Dorus. With Parmeno. 

1 In parti- coloured clothes) — Yer. 683. It was the custom to dress 
Eunuchs in parti-coloured clothes of bright hue. Most probably it was 
from them that the ' motley ' descended to the fools and buffoons of the 
Middle Ages. 

2 With a speckled complexion) — Yer. 689. " Colore stellionino ;" pro- 
bably having spots or freckles on his face like a "stellio" or 
* lizard." 



1 08 eunuchus ; Act I Y. 

Ph^d. Did you know him before ? 

Dorus. No. 

Ph^ed. How did you know he was my brother ? 

Dorus. Parmeno said he was. He gave me these clothes. 

Ph^d. I'm undone ! 

Dorus. He himself put on mine ; afterwards, they both 
went out together. 

Pyth. Now are you quite satisfied that I am sober, and 
that we have told you no falsehood? Is it now sufficiently 
evident that the girl has been ravished ? 

Ph^ed. Avaunt, you beast, do you believe what he says ? 

Pyth. What is there to believe ? The thing speaks for 
itself. 

Ph^ed. (apart to Dorus.) Step aside a little this way. Do 
you hear? (Dorus steps aside.) A little further still. That 
will do. Now tell me this once more ; did Chserea take your 
clothes off you ? 

Dorus. He did. 

Ph^ed. And did he put them on ? 

Dorus. He did. 

Ph^ed. And was he brought here instead of you ? 

Dorus. Yes. 

Pk^ed. Great Jupiter ! O wicked and audacious fellow ! 

Pyth. Woe unto me! Now at last will you believe that 
we have been insulted in a disgraceful manner ? 

Ph^ed. It is no wonder that you believe what the fellow 
says. (Aside.) What I'm to do I know not. (Aside to 
Dorus.) Hark you, deny it all again. (Aloud) Can I not 
this day extract the truth from you ? Did you really 
see my brother Chserea ? 

Dorus. No. 

Phjsd. He can't be brought to confess without being 
punished, I see : follow me this way. At one moment he 
affirms, at another denies. (Aside.) Ask pardon of me. 

Dorus. Indeed, I do entreat you, Phseclria. 

Ph,ed. (kicking Mm.) Be off in-doors. 

Dorus. Oh! Oh! 

Ph^ed. (aside) How in any other fashion to get decently 
out of this I don't know ; for really it's all up zvith me, 
(Aloud, ivith pretended indignation.) Will you be trifling with 
me even here, you knave ? (Follows Dorus into the house.) 



Sc. VT. THE EUNUCH. 109 

Scene V. 

Pythias and Doeias. 

Pyth. I'm as certain that this is the contrivance of 
Parmeno as that I'm alive. 

Dorias. So it is, no doubt 

Pyth. I'faith, I'll find out a method to-day to be even 
with him. But now, what do you think ought to be done, 
Dorias ? 

Dorias. Do you mean with regard to this girl ? 

Pyth. Yes ; whether I ought to mention it or be silent ? 

Dorias. Upon my word, if you are prudent, you won't 
know what you do know, either about the Eunuch or the 
girl's misfortune. By this method you'll both rid yourself 
of all perplexity, and have done a service to her. 1 Say 
this only, that Dorus has run away. 

Pyth. I'll do so. 

Dorias. But don't I see Chremes? Thais will be here 
just now. 

Pyth. Why so ? 

Dorias. Because when I came away from there, a quarrel 
had just commenced between them. 

Pyth. Take in these golden trinkets; I shall learn from 
him what's the matter. (Dorias takes the casket into the 
house.) 

Scene VI. 

Enter Chre^ies, somewhat drunk. 

Cheem. Heyday! upon my faith, I've been bamboozled: 
the wine that I've drunk has got the upper hand. But, so 
long as I was reclining, how extremely sober I did seem to 
myself to be ; when I got up, neither feet nor senses were 
quite equal to their duty. 

Pyth. Chremes! 

1 Have done a service to Tier) — Ver. 722. Though, some would have 
" illi," here to refer to the damsel, and others again to Phaedria, it is 
pretty clear that Madame Dacier is right in suggesting that Thais is 
the person meant. 



110 eunuchus; Act IV. 

Chrem. {turning round) Who's that? What, Pythias; 
dear me. how much more charming you now seem to me 
than a' short time since ! 

Pyth. Troth now, you are much more merry, that's 
certain. 

Chrem. Upon my faith, it is a true saying, that " Yenus 
grows cold without Ceres and Bacchus." But has Thais 
got here long before me ? 

Pyth. Has she already come away from the Captain's ? 

Chrem. A long time ago ; an age since. There has been a 
most violent quarrel between them. 

Pyth. Did she say nothing about you following her ? 

Chrem. Nothing at all; only, on going away, she gave 
me a nod. 

Pyth. Well now, wasn't that enough ? 

Chrem. Why, I didn't know that she meant that, until 
the Captain gave me an explanation, because I was dull 
of comprehension ; for he bundled me out of the house. 
But look, here she is ; I wonder how it was I got here 
before her. 

Scene VII. 
Enter Thais. 

Thais, (to "herself) I really do believe that he'll be here 
presently, to force her away from me. Let him come ; but if 
he touches her with a single finger, that instant his eyes shall 
be torn out. I can put up with his impertinences and his 
high-sounding words, as long as they remain words : but if 
they are turned into realities, he shall get a drubbing. 

Chrem. Thais, I've been here some time. 

Thais. O my dear Chremes, you are the very person I was 
wanting. Are you aware that this quarrel took place on 
your account, and that the whole of this affair, in fact, 
bore reference to yourself ? 

Chrem. To me ? How so, pray ? 

Thais. Because, while I've been doing my best to recover 
and restore your sister to you, this and a great deal more like 
it I've had to put up with. 

Chrem. Where is she ? 

Thais. At home, at my house. 



Sc. VII. THE EUNUCH. Ill 

Chrem. {starting.) Hah ! 

Thais. What's the matter ? She has been brought up 
in a manner worthy of yourself and of her. 

Chrem. What is it you say ? 

Thais. That which is the fact. Her I present to you, 
nor do I ask of you any return for her. 

Chrem. Thanks are both felt and shall be returned in such 
way, Thais, as you deserve. 

Thais. But still, take care, Chremes, that you don't lose 
her, before you receive her from me ; for it is she, whom the 
Captain is now coming to take away from me by force. Do 
you go, Pythias, and bring out of the house the casket with 
the tokens. 1 

Chrem. (looking down the side Scene.) Don't you see him, 
Thais ? 

Pyth. {to Thais.) Where is it put ? 

Thais. In the clothes' chest. Tiresome creature, why do 
you delay ? (Pythias goes into the house.) 

Chrem. What a large body of troops the Captain is bring- 
ing with him against you. Bless me ! 

Thais. Prithee, are you frightened, my dear sir ? 

Chrem. Get out with you. What, I frightened ? There's 
not a man alive less so. 

Thais. Then now is the time to prove it. 

Chrem. Why, I wonder what sort of a man you take 
me to be. 

Thais. Nay, and consider this too ; the person that you 
have to deal with is a foreigner ; 2 of less influence than 
you, less known, and one that has fewer friends here. 

Chrem. I'm aware of that ; but it's foolish to run the risk 
of what you are able to avoid. I had rather we should 
prevent it, than, having received an injury, avenge ourselves 

1 Casket with the tokens) — Yer. 752. It was the custom with the 
ancients when they exposed their children, to leave with them some 
pledge or token of value, that they might afterwards be recognized by 
means of them. The castastrophes of the Curculio, the Rudens, and 
other Plays of Plautus, are brought about by taking advantage of this 
circumstance. The reasons for using these tokens will be stated in a 
future Note. 

- Is a foreigner) — Yer. 758. And therefore the more unlikely to 
obtain redress from an Athenian tribunal. See the Andria, 1. 811, 
and the Note to the passage. 



112 eunuchus; Act IV. 

upon him. Do you go in and fasten the door, while I run 
across hence to the Forum ; I should like us to have the 
aid of some legal adviser in this disturbance. (Moves, as if 
going.) 

Thais, (holding him.) Stay. 

Chrem. Let me go, I'll be here presently. 

Thais. There's no occasion, Chremes. Only say that she 
is your sister, and that you lost her when a little girl, and 
have now recognized her ; then show the tokens. 

Re-enter Pythias from the house, with the trinkets, 

Pyth. (giving them to Thais.) Here they are. 

Thais, (giving them to Chremes.) Take them. If he 
offers any violence, summon the fellow to justice ; do you 
understand me ? 

Chrem. Perfectly. 

Thais. Take care and say this with presence of mind. 

Chrem. I'll take care. 

Thais. Gather up your cloak. (Aside.) Undone ! the very 
person whom I've provided as a champion, wants one himself. 
(They all go into the house.) 

Scene VIII. 

Enter Thraso, followed ly Gnatho, Sanga, and other 
Attendants. 

Thra. Am I to submit, Gnatho, to such a glaring affront 
as this being put upon me ? I'd die sooner. Simalio, Donax, 
Syriscus, follow me ! First, I'll storm the house. 

Gna. Quite right. 

Thra. I'll carry off the girl. 

Gna. Very good. 

Thra. I'll give her own self a mauling. 

Gna. Very proper. 

Thra. (arranging the men.) Advance hither to the main 
body, Donax, with your crowbar ; you, Simalio, to the left 
wing ; you, Syriscus, to the right. Bring up the rest ; 
where's the centurion Sanga, and his maniple 1 of rogues ? 

1 And his maniple) — Yer. 775. We learn from the Fasti of Ovid, 
B. Hi., I. 117-8, that in early times the Roman armies carried bundles 
or wisps of hay upon poles by way ot standards. " A long pole used to 
bear the elevated wisps, from which circumstance the manipular soldier 



Sc. VIII. THE EUNUCH. 113 

San. (coming foi*ivard.) See, here lie is. 

Thra. What, you booby, do you think of fighting with a 
dishclout, 1 to be bringing that here ? 

San. What, I ? I knew the valour of the general, and the 
prowess of the soldiers ; and that this could not possibly 
go on without bloodshed • how was I to wipe the wounds ? 

Thra. Where are the others ? 

San. Plague on you, what others ? Sannio is the only one 
left on guard at home. 

Thra. (to Gnatho.) Do you draw up your men in battle 
order; I'll be behind the second rank ; 2 from that position I'll 
give the word to all. (Takes his place behind the second rank.) 

Gxa. (aside.) That's showing prudence ; as soon as he 
has drawn them up, he secures a retreat for himself. 

Thra. (pointing to the arrangements.) This is just the 
way Pyrrhus used to proceed. 3 

Chremes and Thais appear above at a window. 

Chrem. Do you see, Thais, what plan he is upon? 

derives his name." It appears from this passage, and from other 
authors, that to every troop of one hundred men a " manipulus" or wisp 
of hay (so called from " manum implere," to " fill the hand," as being 
w a handful"), was assigned as a standard, and hence in time the com- 
pany itself obtained the name of " manipulus," and the soldier, a member 
of it, was called " manipularis." The " centurio," or " leader of a 
hundred," was the commanding officer of the ** manipulus." 

1 With a dishclout) — Yer. 776. " Peniculo." This word meant a sponge 
fastened to a stick, or the tail of a fox or an ox, which was used as 
dusters or dishclouts are at the present day for cleaning tables, dishes, 
or even shoes. See the Menaechmi of Plautus, ver. 77 and 391. 

2 Be behind the second rank) — Yer. 780. "Post principia." The 
Captain, with that discretion which is the better part of valour, chooses 
the safest place in his army. The "principes" originally fought in the 
van, fronting the enemy, and behind them were the "hastati" and the 
"triarii." In later times the "hastati" faced the enemy, andthe"prin- 
cipes" were placed in the middle, between them and the " triarii ;" but 
though no longer occupying the front place, they still retained the 
name. Thraso, then, places himself behind the middle line. 

3 Pyrrhus used to proceed) — Yer. 782. He attempts to defend his 
cowardice by the example of Pyrrhus, the powerful antagonist of the 
Romans, and one of the greatest generals of antiquity. He might have 
more correctly cited the example of Xerxes, who, according to Justin, 
did occupy that position in his army. 

I 



114 eunuchus; Act IY. 

Assuredly, that advice of mine about closing the door was 
good. 

Thais. He who now seems to you to be a hero, is in reality 
a mere vapourer ; don't be alarmed. 

Thra. {to Gnatho.) What seems best to you ? 

Gna. I could very much 1 like a sling to be given you 
just now, that you might pelt them from here on the sly at a 
distance ; they would be taking to flight. 

Thra. {to Gnatho.) But look {pointing), I see Thais 
there herself. 

Gna. How soon are we to fall to ? 

Thra. Hold {holding Mm bach) ; it behoves a prudent 
person to make trial of everything before arms. How 
do you know but that she may do what I bid her without 
compulsion ? 

Gna. Ye Gods, by our trust in you, what a thing it is 
to be wise ! I never come near you but what I go away from 
you the wiser. 

Thra. Thais, in the first place, answer me this. When 
I presented you that girl, did you not say that you would 
give yourself up to me alone for some days to come ? 

Thais. Well, what then ? 

Thra. Do you ask the question ? You, who have been 
and brought your lover under my very eyes ? What busi- 
ness had you with him ? With him, too, you clandestinely 
betook yourself away from me. 

Thais. I chose to do so. 

Thra. Then give me back Pamphila; unless you had 
rather she were taken away by force. 

Chrem. Give her back to you, or you lay hands upon 
her? Of all the 

Gna. Ha ! What are you about ? Hold your tongue. 

Thra. What do you mean ? Am I not to touch my own ? 

Chrem. Your own, indeed, you gallows-bird ! 2 

1 / could very much) — Yer. 785. Although Vollbehr gives these 
words to Gnatho, yet, judging from the context, and the words 
u ex occulto," and remembering that Thais and Chremes are up at the 
window, there is the greatest probability that these are really the words 
of Thais addressed aside to Chremes. 

2 You gallows-bird) — Yer. 797. " Furcifer ;" literally, " bearer of the 
furca. ' 



Sc. VIII. THE EUNUCH. 115 

Gxa. (to Chremes.) Have a care, if you please. You don't 
know what kind of man you are abusing now. 

Chrem. (to Gxatho.) Won't you be off from here? Do 
you know how matters stand with you ? If you cause any 
disturbance here to-day, I'll make you remember the place, 
and day, and me too, for the rest of your life. 

Gxa. I pity you, who are making so great a man as 
this your enemy. 

Chrem. I'll break your head this instant if you are not off 

Gxa. Do you really say so, puppy ? Is it that you are at ? 

Thra. (to Chremes.) What fellow are you F What do 
you mean ? What business have you with her ? 

Chrem. I'll let you know : in the first place, I assert that 
she is a freeborn woman. 

Thra. (starting.) Ha! 

Chrem. A citizen of Attica. 

Thra. Whew! 

Chrem. My own sister. 

Thra. Brazen face ! 

Chrem. Now, therefore, Captain, I give you warning ; 
don't you use any violence towards her. Thais, I'm going 
to Sophrona, the nurse, that I may bring her here and shew 
her these tokens. 

Thra. What! Are you to prevent me from touching 
what's my own ? 

Chrem. I will prevent it, I tell you. 

Gxa. (to Thraso.) Do you hear him ? He is convicting 
himself of theft. Is not that enough for you ? 

Thra. Do you say the same, Thais ? 

Thais. Go, find some one to answer you. (She and 
Chremes go away from the window.) 

Thra. (to Gxatho.) What are we to do now ? 

Gxa. Why, go back again : she'll soon be with you, of her 
own accord, to entreat forgiveness. 

Thra. Do you think so ? 

Gxa. Certainly, yes. I know the disposition of women : 
when you will, they won't ; when you won't, they set 
their hearts upon you of their own inclination. 

Thra. You judge right. 

Gxa. Shall I dismiss the army then ? 

Thra. Whenever you like. 

i2 



116 eunuchus; Act V. 

Gna. Sanga, as befits gallant soldiers/ take care in your 
turn to remember your homes and hearths. 

San. My thoughts have been for some time among the 
saucepans. 

Gna. You are a worthy fellow. 

Thra. {putting himself at their head.) You follow me this 
way. (Exeunt omnes. 



ACT THE FIFTH. 

Scene I. 
Enter Thais from her house, followed by Pythias. 

Thais. What! do you persist, hussy, in talking ambi- 
guously to me? "I do know;" "I don't know;" "he has 
gone off ;" " I have heard ;" " I wasn't there." Don't you 
mean to tell me plainly, whatever it is ? The girl in 
tears, with her garments torn, is mute ; the Eunuch is off : 
for what reason ? What has happened ? Won't you 
speak ? 

Pyth. Wretch that I am, what am I to say to you? 
They declare that he was not a Eunuch. 

Thais. Who was he then ? 

Pyth. That Chorea. 

Thais. What Chserea? 

Pyth. That stripling, the brother of Phsedria, 

Thais. What's that you say, you hag ? 

Pyth. And I am satisfied of it. 

Thais. Pray, what business had he at my house ? What 
brought him there ? 

Pyth. I don't know ; unless, as I suppose, he was in love 
with Pamphila. 

Thais. Alas ! to my confusion, unhappy woman that I am, 
I'm undone, if what you tell me is true. Is it about this that 
the girl is crying ? 

Pyth. I believe so. 

1 As befits gallant soldiers)— Ter. 814. Beaumont and Fletcher not 
improbably had this scene in view in their picture of the mob regiment 
in Philaster. The ragged regiment which Shakspeare places under the 
command of Falstaff was not very unlike it, nor that which owned the 
valiant Bombastes Furioso as its Captain. 



Sc. II. THE EUNUCH. 117 

Thais. How say you, you arch-jade? Did I not warn 
you about this very thing, when I was going away from 
here ? 

Pyth. What could I do ? Just as you ordered, she was 
entrusted to his care only. 

Thais. Hussy, I've been entrusting the sheep to the 
wolf. I'm quite ashamed to have been imposed upon in this 
way. What sort of man was he ? 

Pyth. Hush! hush! mistress, pray; we are all right. Here 
we have the very man. 

Thais. Where is he ? 

Pyth. Why there, to the left. Don't you see ? 

Thais. I see. 

Pyth. Order him to be seized as quickly as possible. 

Thais. What can we do to him, simpleton ? 

Pyth. What do to him, do you ask? Pray, do look 
at him ; if his face doesn't seem an impudent one. 

Thais. Not at all. 

Pyth. Besides, what effrontery he has. 

Scene II. 

Enter Ch^erea, in the Eunuch's dress, on tJw other side of 

the stage. 

Onm. {to himself.) At Antipho's, 1 both of them, father and 
mother, just as if on purpose, were at home, so that I couldn't 
any way get in, but that they must have seen me. In 
the meantime, while I was standing before the door, a 
certain acquaintance of mine was coming full upon me. 
When I espied him, I took to my heels as fast as I could 
down a narrow unfrequented alley ; thence again to another, 
and thence to another ; thus have I been most dreadfully 
harassed with running about, that no one might recognize 
me. But isn't this Thais that I see ? It is she. I'm at 
a stand. What shall I do ? But what need I care ? What 
can she do to me ? 

1 At Antipho's) — Yer. 839. Madame Dacier here observes that 
Chserea assigns very natural reasons for not having changed his dress ; 
in which the art of Terence is evident, since the sequel of the Play 
makes it absolutely necessary that Chserea should appear again before 
Thais in the habit which he wore while in the house. 



118 eunuchus; Act V. 

Thais, (to Pythias.) Let's accost him. (To Chorea.) Good 
Mister Doras, welcome ; tell me, have you been running away ? 

Ch^e. Madam, I did so. 

Thais. Are you quite pleased with it ? 

Chje. No. 

Thais. Do you fancy that you'll get off with impunity ? 

Ch^e. Forgive this one fault ; if I'm ever guilty of ano- 
ther, then kill me. 

Thais. Were you in fear of my severity ? 

Ch^. No. 

Thais. No ? What then ? 

Ch.e. (pointing at Pythias.) I was afraid of her, lest she 
might be accusing me to you. 

Thais. What had you done ? 

Ch^e. A mere trine. 

Pyth. Come now, a trine, you impudent fellow. Does 
this appear a trifle to you, to ravish a virgin, a citizen ? 

Ch,e. I took her for my fellow servant. 

Pyth. Fellow servant ? I can hardly restrain myself 
from Hying at his hair. A miscreant ! Even of his own 
free will he comes to make fun of us. 

Thais, (to Pythias.) Won't you begone from here, you 
mad woman ? 

Pyth. Why so ? Really, I do believe I should be some- 
thing in this hang-dog's debt, if I were to do so ; especially 
as he owns that he is your servant. 

Thais. We'll pass that by. Cha?rea, you have behaved 
unworthily of yourself ; for if I am deserving in the highest 
degree of this affront, still it is unbecoming of you to be 
guilty of it. And, upon my faith, I do not know what 
method now to adopt about this girl : you have so confounded 
all my plans, that I cannot possibly return her to her friends 
in such a manner as is befitting and as I had intended ; in 
order that, by this means, I might, Chaerea, do a real service 
to myself. 

Ch^e. But now, from henceforth, I hope, Thais, that there 
will be lasting good will between us. Many a time, from some 
affair of this kind and from a bad beginning, great friendships 
have sprung up. What if some Divinity has willed this ? 

Thais. I'faith, for my own part I both take it in that view 
and wish to do so. 



86. II. THE EUNUCH. 119 

Ch.e. Yes. prithee, do so. Be sure of this one thing, 
that I did not do it for the sake of affronting yon, bnt in 
consequence of passion. 

Thais. I understand, and, i'faith, for that reason do I now 
the more readily forgive you. I am not, Chaerea, of a dis- 
position so ungentle, or so inexperienced, as not to know 
what is the power of love. 

Cele. So may the Deities kindly bless me, Thais; lam 
now smitten with you as well. 

Pyth. Then, i'faith, mistress, I foresee you must have a 
care of him. 

Chle. I would not dare 

Pyth. I won't trust you at all in anything. 

Thais, (to Pythias.) Do have done. ■ 

Ch.e. Now I entreat you that you will be my assistant 
in this affair. I entrust and commit myself to your care ; 
I take you, Thais, as my protectress ; I implore you ; I 
shall die if I don't have her for my wife. 

Thais. But, if your father should say anything 

Ch.e. Oh, he'll consent, I'm quite sure of that, if she is 
only a citizen. 

Thais. If you will wait a little, the brother himself of the 
young woman will be here presently ; he has gone to fetch 
the nurse, who brought her up when a little child ; you 
yourself shall be present, Cha?rea, at his recognition of her. 

Cble. I certainly will stay. 

Thais. In the meantime, until he comes, would you 
prefer that we should wait for him in the house, rather than 
here before the door ? 

Chle. Why yes, I should like it much. 

Pyth. (to Thais.) Prithee, what are you going to 
do? 

Thais. "Wliy, what's the matter ? 

Pyth. Do you ask ? Do you think of admitting him 
after this into your house ? 

Thais. Why not ? 

Pyth. Trust my word for it, he'll be creating some new 
disturbance. 

Thais. O dear, prithee, do hold your tongue. 

Pyth. You seem to me to be far from sensible of his 
assurance. 



120 eunuchus; Act V. 

Ch,e. I'll not do anything, Pythias. 

Pyth. Upon my faith, I don't believe you, Chorea, 
except in case you are not trusted. 

Ch^e. Nay but, Pythias, do you be my keeper. 

Pyth. Upon my faith, I would neither venture to give 
anything to you to keep, nor to keep you myself: away with 
you ! 

Thais. Most opportunely the brother himself is coming 

Ch^e. I'faith, I'm undone. Prithee, let's be gone in-doors, 
Thais. I don't want him to see me in the street with this 
dress on. 

Thais. For what reason, pray ? Because you are ashamed ? 

Ch^e. Just so. 

Pyth. Just so ? . But the young woman 

Thais. Go first; I'll follow. You stay here, Pythias, 
that you may show Chremes in. (Thais and Chorea go 
into the house.) 

Scene III. 
Enter Chremes and Sophrona. 

Pyth. (to herself.) Well ! what now can suggest itself to 
my mind ? What, I wonder, in order that I may repay 
the favour to that villain who palmed this fellow off 
upon us ? 

Chrem. Keally, do bestir yourself more quickly, nurse. 

Soph. I am bestirring. 

Chrem. So I see ; but you don't stir forwards. 

Pyth. (to Chremes.) Have you yet shown the tokens to 
the nurse ? 

Chrem. All of them. 

Pyth. Prithee, what does she say? Does she recognize 
them ? 

Chrem. Yes, with a full recollection of them. 

Pyth. Upon my faith, you do bring good news ; for I really 
wish well to this young woman. Go in-doors : my mistress 
has been for some time expecting you at home. (Chremes 
and Sophrona go into Thais's house.) But look, yonder I 
espy that worthy fellow, Parmeno, coming : just see, for 
heaven's sake, how leisurely he moves along. I hope I have 
it in my power to torment him after my own fashion. I'll go 



Sc. V. THE EUNUCH. 121 

in-cloors, that I may know for certain about the discovery ; 
afterwards I'll come out, and give this villain a terrible fright. 
(Goes into the house.) 

Scene IV. 

Enter Parmeno. 

Par. (to himself.) I've just come back to see what Chserea 
has been doing here. If he has managed the affair with 
dexterity, ye Gods, by our trust in you, how great and 
genuine applause will Parmeno obtain ! For not to mention 
that a passion, full of difficulty and expense, with which he was 
smitten for a virgin belonging to an extortionate courtesan, 
I've found means of satisfying for him, without molestation, 
without outlay, and without cost; then, this other point — that 
is really a thing that I consider my crowning merit, to have 
found out the way by which a young man may be enabled to 
learn the dispositions and manners of courtesans, so that by 
knowing them betimes, he may detest them ever after. 
(Pythias enters from the house unperceived.) For while they 
are out of doors, nothing seems more cleanly, nothing more 
neat or more elegant; and when they dine with a gallant, they 
pick daintily about i 1 to see the filth, the dirtiness, the neecli- 
ness of these women ; how sluttish they are when at home, and 
how greedy after victuals ; in what a fashion they devour the 
black bread with yesterday's broth : — to know all this, is sal- 
vation to a young man. 

Scene V. 

Enter Pythias from the house. 

Pyth. (apart, unseen ly Parmeno.) Upon my faith, you 
villain, I'll take vengeance upon you for these sayings 
and doings; so that you shan't make sport of us with 

1 Pick daintily about) — Yer. 935. He seems here to reprehend the 
same practice against which Ovid warns his fair readers, in his Art of 
Love, B. iii. 1. 75. He says, " Do not first take food at home," 
when about to go to an entertainment. Westerhovius seems to 
think that " ligurio" means, not to " pick daintily," but "to be fond of 
good eating ;" and refers to the Bacchides of Plautus as pourtraying 
courtesans of the "ligurient" kind, and finds another specimen in 
Bacchis in the Heautontimorumenos. 



122 eunuchus ; Act V. 

impunity. (Aloud, coming forward.) O, by our trust in the 
Gods, what a disgraceful action ! O hapless young man ! 
wicked Parmeno, to have brought him here ! 

Par. What's the matter ? 

Pyth. I do pity him; and so that I mightn't see it, 
wretched creature that I am, I hurried away out of doors. 
What a dreadful example they talk of making him ! 

Par. O Jupiter! What is this tumult? Am I then 
undone ? I'll accost her. What's all this, Pythias ? What 
are you saying ? An example made of whom ? 

Pyth. Do you ask the question, you most audacious fellow ? 
You've proved the ruin of the young man whom you brought 
hither for the Eunuch, while you were trying to put a trick 
upon us. 

Par. How so, or what has happened ? Tell me. 

Pyth. I'll tell you : that young woman who was to-day 
made a present to Thais, are you aware that she is a citizen 
of this place, and that her brother is a person of very high 
rank? 

Par. I didn' know that. 

Pyth. But so she has been discovered to be; he, unfor- 
tunate youth, has ravished her. When the brother came to 
know of this being done, in a most towering rage, he 

Par. Did what, pray ? 

Pyth. First, bound him in a shocking manner. 

Par. Bound him ? 

Pyth. And even though Thais entreated him that he 
would'nt do so 



Par. What is it you tell me ? 

Pyth. Now he is threatening that he will also do that 
which is usually done to ravishers ; a thing that I never saw 
done, nor wish to. 

Par. With what assurance does he dare perpetrate a crime 
so heinous ? 

Pyth. How "so heinous?" 

Par. Is it not most heinous? Who ever saw any one 
taken up as a ravisher in a courtesan's house ? 

Pyth. I don't know. 

Par. But that you mayn't be ignorant of this, Pythias, 
I tell you, and give you notice that he is my master's son. 

Pyth. How ! Prithee, is it he ? 



Sc. VI. THE EUXUCH. 123 

Par Don't let Thais suffer any violence to be clone to 
him. But why don't I go in myself? 

Pyth. Take care, Parmeno, what you are about, lest 
you both do him no good and come to harm yourself \ for 
it is their notion, that whatever has happened, has originated 
in you. 

Par. What then, wretch that I am, shall I do, or how 
resolve ? But look, I see the old gentleman returning from 
the country ; shall I tell him or shall I not ? By my troth, 
I will tell him ; although I am certain that a heavy punish- 
ment is in readiness for me ; but it's a matter of necessity, 
in order that he may rescue him. 

Pyth. You are wise. I'm going in-doors ; do you relate 
to him everything exactly as it happened. {Goes into the 
house.) 

Scene VI. 
Enter Laches. 

Lach. (to himself.) I have this advantage 1 from my 
country-house being so near at hand; no weariness, either 
of country or of town, ever takes possession of me ; when 
satiety begins to come on, I change my locality. But is 
not that our Parmeno ? Surely it is he. Whom are you 
waiting for, Parmeno, before the door here ? 

Par, (pretends not to see him.) Who is it ? (Turning round.) 
Oh, I'm glad that you have returned safe. 

Lach. Whom are you waiting for ? 

Par. (aside.) I'm undone : my tongue cleaves to my 
mouth through fright. 

Lach. Why, what is it you are trembling about? Is 
all quite right ? Tell me. 

Par. Master, in the first place, I would have you per- 
suaded of what is the fact ; whatever has happened in this 
affair has happened through no fault of mine. 

Lach. What is it ? 

1 Tliis advantage) — Yer. 970. Donatus here observes that the Poet 
introduces Laches, as he has Parmeno just "before, in a state of perfect 
tranquillity, that their sudden change of feeling may be the more divert- 
ing to the Audience. 



124 euxuchus; Act V. 

Par. Really yon have reason to ask. I ought first to 
have told you the circumstances. Phsedria purchased a cer- 
tain Eunuch, to make a present of to this woman here. 

Lach. To what woman ? 

Par. To Thais. 

Lach. Bought ? Good heavens, I'm undone ! For how 
much? 

Par. Twenty minge. 

Lach. Done for, quite. 

Par. Then, Chserea is in love with a certain music-girl 
here. (Pointing to Thais's house.) 

Lach. How ! What ? In love ? Does he know already 
what a courtesan means ? Is he come to town ? One 
misfortune close upon another. 

Par. Master, don't look so at me ; he didn't do these things 
by my encouragement. 

Lach. Leave off talking about yourself. If I live, you 
hangdog, I'll But first give me an account of it, what- 
ever it is. 

Par. He was taken to the house of Thais in place of the 
Eunuch. 

Lach. In place of the Eunuch ? 

Par. Such is the fact. They have since apprehended him 
in the house as a ravisher, and bound him. 

Lach. Death ! 

Par. Mark the assurance of courtesans. 

Lach. Is there any other calamity or misfortune besides, 
that you have not told me of? 

Par. That's aU. 

Lach. Do I delay rushing in here ? (Buns into the house 
of Thais.) 

Par. (to himself.) There's no doubt but that I shall have 
a heavy punishment for this affair, only that I was obliged 
to act thus. I'm glad of this, that some mischief will befall 
these women here through my agency, for the old man has, 
for a long time, been on the look-out for some occasion 1 to 
do them a bad turn ; at last he has found it. 

1 For some occasion) — Ver. 999. We learn from Donatus that 
Menander was more explicit concerning the resentment of Laches 
against Thais, on account of her having corrupted Phaedria. 



Sc. VIL THE EUNUCH. 125 

Scene VIL 
Enter Pythias from the house ef Thais, laughing. 

Pyth. {to herself, on entering) Never, upon my faith, for 
a long time past, has anything happened to me that I could 
have better liked to happen, than the old gentleman just 
now, full of his mistake, coming into our house. I had the 
joke all to myself, as I knew 1 what it was he feared. 

Par {apart.) Why, what's all this ? 

Pyth. Now I'm come out to meet with Parmeno. But, 
prithee, where is he ? {Looking around.) 

Par. {apart.) She's looking for me. 

Pyth. And there he is, I see ; I'll go up to him. 

Par. What's the matter, simpleton? What do you 
mean ? What are you laughing about ? Still going 
on? 

Pyth. (laughing?) I'm dying; I'm wretchedly tired with 
laughing at you. 

Par. Why so ? 

Pyth. Do you ask ? Upon my faith, I never did see, nor 
shall see, a more silly fellow. Oh clear, I cannot well express 
what amusement you've afforded in-doors. And still I for- 
merly took you to be a clever and shrewd person. Wiry, 
was there any need for you instantly to believe what I told 
you ? Or were you not content with the crime, which by 
your advice the young man had been guilty of, without 
betraying the poor fellow to his father as well ? Why, 

1 As I knew) — Ver. 1003. She enjoyed it the more, knowing 
that the old man had nothing to fear, as he had just heard the fiction 
which she had imparted to Parmeno. Donatus observes that the terroi 
of Laches accounts for his sudden consent to the union of Chaerea with 
Pamphila ; for though he could not settle the matter any other way 
with credit, he was glad to find that his son had made an unequal match 
rather than endangered his life. Colman, however, observes with con- 
siderable justice : " I think Chorea apologizes still better for this 
arrangement in the Scene with Thais at the opening of this Act, where 
he says that he is confident of obtaining his father's consent, provided 
Pamphila proves to be a citizen ; and, indeed, the match between them 
is rather a reparation of an injury done to her than a degradation of 
himself." 



126 eunuchus; Act Y. 

what do you suppose his feelings must have been at the mo- 
ment when his father saw him clothed in that dress ? Well, 
do you now understand that you are done for? (Laughing.} 

Par. Hah ! what is it you say, you hussy? Have you 
been telling me lies ? What, laughing still ? Does it appear 
so delightful to you, you jade, to be making fools of us ? 

Pyth. (laughing.) Yery much so. 

Par. Yes, indeed, if you can do it with impunity. 

Pyth. Exactly so. 

Par. By heavens, I'll repay you ! 

Pyth. I believe you ; but, perhaps, that which you are 
threatening, Parmeno, will need a future day ; you'll be 
trussed up directly, for rendering a silly young man remark- 
able for disgraceful conduct, and then betraying him to his 
father; they'll both be making an example of you. (Laughing.) 

Par. I'm done for! 

Pyth. This reward has been found you in return for that 
present of yours ; l I'm off. (Goes into the house.) 

Par. {to himself.) Wretch that I am ; just like a rat, this 
day I've come to destruction through betrayal of myself. 2 

Scene YIII. 
Enter Thraso and Gnatho. 

Gna. (to Thraso.) Well now? With what hope, or 
what design, are we come hither? What do you intend 
to do, Thraso ? 

Thra. What, I ? To surrender myself to Thais, and do 
what she bids me. 

Gna. What is it you say ? 

Thra. Why any the less so, than Hercules served 
Omphale. 3 

1 In return for that present of yours) — Yer. 1022. By the present she 
means Chasrea in the disguise of the Eunuch. 

2 Through betrayal of myself) — Yer. 1023. Which betrays itself by its 
own squeaking. 

3 Hercules served Omphale) — Yer. 1026. He alludes to the story of 
Omphale, Queen of Lydia, and Hercules. Being violently in love with 
her, the hero laid aside his club and boar's skin, and in the habit of a 
woman plied the spindle and distaff with her maids. See a curious 
story of Omphale, Hercules, and Eaunus, in the Fasti of O^vid, B. ii. 



Sc. IX. THE EUNUCH. 127 

Gxa. The precedent pleases me. (Aside.) I only wish I 
may see your head stroked down with a slipper; 1 but her 
door makes a noise. 

Thra. Confusion ! Why, what mischief's this ? I never 
saw this person before; why, I wonder, is he rushing out in 
such a hurry ? {They stand aside.) 

Scene IX. 

"Enter Chorea from the house of Thais, on the other side 

of the stage. 

Ch,e. (to himself aloud.) O fellow townsmen, is there any 
one alive more fortunate than me this day ? Not any one, 
upon my faith : for clearly in me have the Gods mani- 
fested all their power, on whom, thus suddenly, so many 
blessings are bestowed. 

Par. (apart.) Why is he thus overjoyed ? 

Ch^. (seeing Parmeno, and running up to him.) my 
dear Parmeno, the contriver, the beginner, the perfecter of 
all my delights, do you know what are my transports ? Are 
you aware that my Pamphila has been discovered to be a 
citizen ? 

Par. I have heard so. 

Qb.m. Do you know that she is betrothed to me ? 

Par. So may the Gods bless me, happily done. 

Gna. (apart to Thraso.) Do you hear what he says ? 

Ch,e. And then, besides, I am delighted that my bro- 
ther's mistress is secured to him; the family is united. 
Thais has committed herself to the patronage of my father; 2 
she has put herself under our care and protection. 

1. 305. As to the reappearance of Thraso here, Colman has the following 
remarks: " Thraso, says Donatus, is brought back again in order to 
be admitted to some share in the good graces of Thais, that he may not 
be made unhappy at the end of the Play ; but surely it is an essential 
part of the poetical justice of Comedy to expose coxcombs to ridicule and 
to punish them, though without any shocking severity, for their follies." 

1 With a slipper) — Yer. 1027. He doubtless alludes to the treat- 
ment of Hercules by Omphale ; and, according to Lucian, there was 
a story that Omphale used to beat him with her slipper or sandal. On 
that article of dress, see the Notes to the Trinummus of Plautus, 
1. 252. 

2 To the patronage of my father) — Yer. 1038. It was the custom at 



128 eunuchus; &ct V. 

Par. Thais, then, is wholly your brother's. 

Cele. Of course. 

Par. Then this is another reason for us to rejoice, that the 
Captain will be beaten out of doors. 

Cile. Wherever my brother is, do you take care that 
he hears this as soon as possible. 

Par. I'll go look for him at home. ( Goes into the house of 
Laches.) 

Thra. {apart to Gnatho.) Do you at all doubt, Gnatho, 
but that I am now ruined everlastingly ? 

Gna. {to Thraso.) Without doubt, I do think so. 

Ch^e. {to himself) What am I to make mention of first, 
or commend in especial ? Him who gave me the advice 
to do so, or myself, who ventured to undertake it ? Or 
ought I to extol fortune, who has been my guide, and has so 
opportunely crowded into a single day events so numerous, 
so important ; or my father's kindness and indulgence ? Oh 
Jupiter, I entreat you, do preserve these blessings unto us ! 



Scene X. 
Enter 'FB.MDmxfroin the house ^Laches. 

PHiED. {to himself) Ye Gods, by our trust in you, what 
incredible things has Parmeno just related to me! But 
where is my brother ? 

Ch^e. {stepping forward.) Here he is. 

Ph^ed. I'm overjoyed. 

Cele. I quite believe you. There is no one, brother, 
more worthy to be loved than this Thais of yours : so much 
is she a benefactress to all our family. 

Phjsd. Whew ! are you commending her too to me ? 

Thra. {apart.) I'm undone; the less the hope I have, 

Athens for strangers, such as Thais was, to put themselves under the 
protection (in clientelam) of some wealthy citizen, who, as their patron, 
was bound to protect them against injury. An exactly parallel case to 
the present is found in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, 1. 799, where 
the wealthy Periplecomenus says, " Habeo, eccillam, meam clientam, 
meretricem adolescentulam." " Why, look, I have one, a dependant of 
mine, a courtesan, a very young woman." 



Sc. X. THE EUNUCH. 129 

the more I am in love. Prithee, Gnatho, my hope is ii 
you. 

Gna. {apart.) What do you wish me to do ? 

Thra. (apart.) Bring this about, by entreaties or with 
money, that I may at least share Thais's favours in some 
degree. 

Gxa. (apart) It's a hard task. 

Thra. (apart.) If you set your mind on anything, 1 know 
you well. If you manage this, ask me for any present you 
like as your reward ; you shall have what you ask. 

Gxa. (apart) Is it so ? 

Thra. (apart.) It shall be so. 

Gxa. (apart) If I manage this, I ask that your house, 
whether you are present or absent, may be open to me ; 
that, without invitation, there may always be a place for me. 

Thra. (apart.) I pledge my honour that it shall be so. 

Gxa. (apart) I'll set about it then. 

Ph.ed. Who is it I hear so close at hand ? (Turning 
round) Thraso 

Thra. (coming forward) Save you loth 

Ph.ed. Perhaps you are not aware what has taken place 
here. 

Thra. I am quite aware. 

Ph.ed. Why, then, do I see you in this neighbourhood ? 

Thra. Depending on your kindness. 

Ph.ed. Do you know what sort of dependence you have ? 
Captain, I give you notice, if ever I catch you in this street 
again, even if you should say to me, " I was looking for 
another person, I was on my road this way," you are undone. 

Gxa. Come, come, that's not handsome. 

Ph^ed. I've said it. 

Gxa. I didn't know you gave yourself such airs. 

PHiED. So it shall be. 

Gxa. First hear a few words from me ; and when I have 
said the thing, if you approve of it, do it. 

Ph.ed. Let's hear. 

Gxa. Do you step a little that way, Thraso. (Thraso 
stands aside.) In the first place, I wish you both implicitly 
to believe me in this, that whatever I do in this matter, I 
do it entirely for my own sake ; but if the same thing is of 
advantage to yourselves, it would be folly for you not to do it. 



130 eunuchus; Act V. 

Ph^ed. What is it ? 

Gna. I'm of opinion that the Captain, your rival, should 
"be received among you. 

Ph^ed. (starting.) Hah! 

Ch^e. Be received ? 

Gna. {to Ph^edria.) Only consider. T faith, Phasdria, 
at the free rate you are living with her, and indeed very 
freely you are living, you have but little to give ; and it's 
necessary for Thais to receive a good deal. That all this 
may be supplied for your amour and not at your own 
expense, there is not an individual better suited or more 
fitted for your purpose than the Captain, In the first place, 
he both has got enough to give, and no one does give 
more profusely. He is a fool, a dolt, a blockhead; night 
and day he snores away ; and you need not fear that the lady 
will fall in love with him ; you may easily have him discarded 
whenever you please. 

Ch^e. (to Ph^dria.) What shall we do ? 

Gna. And this besides, which I deem to be of even greater 
importance, — not a single person entertains in better style or 
more bountifully. 

Ch^e. It's a wonder if this sort of man cannot be made use 
of in some way or other. 

Ph^ed. I think so too. 

Gna. You act properly. One thing I have still to beg of 
you, — that you'll receive me into your fraternity ; I've been 
rolling that stone 1 for a considerable time past. 

Peued. W r e admit you. 

Ch^e. And with all my heart. 

Gna. Then I, in return for this, Phsedria, and you, Chserea, 
make him over to you 2 to be eaten and drunk to the dregs. 

Ch,e. Agreed. 

Ph^ed. He quite deserves it. 3 

1 Been rolling that stone) — Yer. 1084. Donatus thinks that he alludes 
to the story of Sisyphus, who, in the Infernal Regions, was condemned 
eternally to roll a stone up a hill, which, on arriving at the summit 
immediately fell to the bottom. 

2 Make him over to you) — Yer. 1086. " Yobis propino." The word 
a propino " was properly applied to the act of tasting a cup of wine, 
and then handing it to another ; he means that he has had his taste of 
the Captain, and is now ready to hand him over to them. 

3 He quite deserves it)— Yer. 1087. Cooke has the following ap- 



Sc. X. THE EUNUCH. 131 

GnA- (calling to Thraso.) Thraso, whenever you please, 
step this way. 

The a. Prithee, how goes it ? 

Gxa. How ? Wliy, these people didn't know you ; after 
I had discovered to them your qualities, and had praised 
you as your actions and your virtues deserved, I prevailed 
upon them. 

Thea. You have managed well; I give you my best 
thanks. Besides, I never was anywhere but what all were 
extremely fond of me. 

Gxa. (to Ph-EDRIA and Ch.ekea.) Didn't I tell you that he 
was a master of the Attic elegance ? 

Ph.ed. He is no other than you mentioned. (Pointing 
to his Father's house.) Walk this way. (To the Audience.) 
Fare you well, and grant us your applause. 

propriate remark : " I cannot think that this Play, excellent as it is 
in almost all other respects, concludes consistently with the manners of 
gentlemen; there is a meanness in Phaedria and Ckaerea consenting 
to take Thraso into their society, with a view of fleecing him, which 
the Poet should haTe avoided." 



K 2 



HEATJTONTIMOEUMENOS; 

THE SELF-TOBMENTOB. 



DRAMATIS PERSON/E. 

Chremes, 1 an old gentleman, living in the country. 
Menedemus, 2 an old gentleman, his neighbour. 
Clinia, 3 son of Menedemus. 
Clitipho, 4 son of Chremes. 
Dromo, 5 servant of Clinia. 
Syrus, 6 servant of Clitipho. 

Sostrata/ wife of Chremes. 

Antiphila, 8 a young woman beloved by Clinia. 

Bacchis, 9 a Courtesan, the mistress of Clitipho. 

The Nurse of Antiphila. 

Phrygia, 10 maid-servant to Bacchis. 

Scene.— In the country, near Athens; before the houses of Chremes 
and Menedemus. 



1 See the Dramatis Personae of the Andria. 

2 From fjL£vbg t " strength," and drjjxoe, "the people." 

3 From k\lvu), " to incline," or from izXivrj, " the niarriage-bed." 

4 From icXeirbg, " illustrious," and QiLs, " light." 

5 See the Dramatis Personae of the Andria. 

6 From Syria, his native country. 

7 From o(o%(h, " to preserve," or " save." 

8 From clvti, "in return," and 6l\oj, "to love." 

9 From Bacchus, the God of Wine. 
10 From Phrygia, her native country. 



THE SUBJECT. 



Cheemes commands his wife, when pregnant, ii she is delivered of a girl 
immediately to kill the child. Having given birth to a girl, Sostrata 
delivers her to an old woman named Philtera to be exposed. Instead 
of doing this, Philtera calls her Antiphila, and brings her up as her 
own. Clinia, the son of Menedemus, falls in love with her, and 
treats her as though his wife. Menedemus, on learning this, is very 
angry, and by his harsh language drives away his son from home. 
Taking this to heart, and in order to punish himself for his ill-timed 
severity, Menedemus, though now an aged man, fatigues himself by 
labouring at agricultural pursuits from morning till night. At the 
period when the Play commences, Clinia has "list returned to Attica, 
but not daring to go to his father's house, is entertained byClitipho, 
the son of Chremes, who is the neighbour ol Menedemus. Clitipho 
then sends for Antiphila, whose supposed mother has recently died, to 
come and meet her lover. On the same day, Chremes learns from 
Menedemus how anxious he is for his son's return ; and on hearing 
from his son of the arrival of Clinia, he defers informing Menedemus 
of it until the next day. Syrus, the servant who has been sent to ietch 
Antiphila, also brings with him Bacchis, an extravagant Courtesan, 
the mistress of Clitipho. To conceal the truth from Chremes, they 
represent to him that Bacchis is the mistress of Clinia, and that 
Antiphila is one of her maids. Next morning Chremes informs Mene- 
demus of his son's arrival, and of the extravagant conduct of his 
mistress, but begs that he will conceal from Clinia his knowledge ot 
this fact. Bacchis requiring ten minaa, Syrus devises a plan for obtain- 
ing the money from Chremes, while the latter is encouraging him to 
think of a project against Menedemus. Syrus tells him a story, that the 
mother of Antiphila had borroAved a thousand drachmas of Bacchis, 
and being dead, the girl is left in her hands as a pledge for the money. 
"While these things are going on, Sostrata discovers in Antiphila her 
own daughter. In order to obtain the money which Bacchis persists in 
demanding, Syrus suggests to Chremes that it should be represented to 
Menedemus that Bacchis is the mistress of Clitipho, and that he 
should be requested to conceal her in his house for a few days ; it is 
also arranged that Clinia shall pretend to his father to be in love with 
Antiphila, and to beg her as his wife. He is then to ask for mone} T , as 
though for the wedding, which is to be handed over to Bacchis. 
Chremes does not at first approve oi the plan suggested by Syrus; but 
he pays down the money for which he has been informed his daughter 
is a pledge in the hands of Bacchis. This, with his knowledge, is 
given to Clitipho, who, as Syrus says, is to convey it to Bacchis, who 
is now in the house of Menedemus, to make the latter more readily 
believe that she is his mistress. Shortly after this, the plot is dis- 
covered by Chremes, who threatens to punish Clitipho and Syrus. 
The Play concludes with Chremes giving his consent to the marriage 
of Clinia with Antiphila, and pardoning Clitipho, who promises to 
abandon the Courtesan, and marry. Unlike the other Plays of 
Terence and Plautus, the plot of this Play extends over two days. 



THE TITLE OF THE PLAY. 



It is from the Greek of Menander. Performed at tlie 
Megalensian Games ; Lucius Cornelius Lentulus and Lucius 
Valerius Flaccus being Curule ^Ediles. Ambivius Turpio 
performed it. Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed 
the music. The first time it was performed to the music 
of treble and bass flutes; the second time, of two treble 
flutes. It was acted three times ; Marcus Juventius and 
Titus Sempronius being Consuls. 1 

1 Being Consuls) — M. Juventius Thalna and Ti. Sempronius Grac- 
chus were Consuls in the year irom the Building of the City 589, and 
B.a 164. 



HEATJT01NTIM0ETJMEN0S; 

THE SELF-TOBMENTOB. 



THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS. 

A seveee father compels his son Clinia, in love with Antiphila, to go 
abroad to the wars; and repenting of what has been done, torments 
himseli in mind. Afterwards, when he has returned, unknown to his 
father, he is entertained at the house of Clitipho. The latter is in 
love with Bacchis, a Courtesan. When Clinia sends for his much-loved 
Antiphila, Bacchis comes, as though his mistress, and Antiphila, 
wearing the garb of her servant ; this is done in order that Clitipho 
may conceal it from his father. He, through the stratagems of Syrus, 
gets ten minse from the old man for the Courtesan. Antiphila is dis- 
covered to be the sister of Clitipho. Clinia receives her, and Clitipho, 
another woman, for his wife. 



THE PHOLOGUE. 

Lest it should be a matter of surprise to any one of you, why 
the Poet has assigned to an old man 1 a part that belongs to the 
young, that I will first explain to you f and then, the reason 

1 Assigned to an old man) — Yer. 1. He refers to the fact that the 
Prologue was in general spoken by young men, whereas it is here 
spoken by L. Ambivius Turpio, the leader of the Company, a man 
stricken in years. The Prologue was generally not recited by a person 
who performed a character in the opening Scene. 

2 That I 'will first explain to you)— Yer. 3. His meaning seems to be, 
that he will first tell them the reason why he, who is to take a part in 
the opening Scene, speaks the Prologue, which is usually spoken by a 
young man who does not take part in that Scene : and that he will 
then proceed to speak in character (eloquor), as Chremes, in the first 
Scene. His reason for being chosen to speak the Prologue, is that 
he may be a pleader (orator) for the Poet, a task which would be likely 
to be better performed by him than by a younger man. 



136 HEAUT0NTI3I0HUMEN0S ; 

for my coming I will disclose. An entire Play from an entire 
Greek one/ the Heautontimorumenos, I am to-day about to 
represent, which iL*om a twofold plot 2 has been made but one. 
I have shown that it is new, and what it is : next I would 
mention who it was that wrote it, and whose in Greek it is, 
if I did not think that the greater part of you are aware. 
Now, for what reason I have learnt this part, in a few 
words I will explain. The Poet intended me to be a Pleader, 3 
not the Speaker of a Prologue; your decision he asks, and 
has appointed me the advocate ; if this advocate can avail 
as much by his oral powers as he has excelled in inventing 
happily, who composed this speech which I am about to 
recite. For as to malevolent rumours spreading abroad 
that he has mixed together many Greek Plays while writing 
a lew Latin ones, he does not deny that this is the case, and 
that he does not repent of so doing ; and he affirms that he 
will do so again. He has the example of good Poets; after 
which example he thinks it is allowable for him to do what 

1 From an entire Greek one) — Yer. 4. In contradistinction to such 
Plays as the Andria, as to which it was a subject of complaint that it 
had been formed out of a mixture (contaminatus) of the Andrian and 
Perinthian oi Menander. 

2 Which from a twofold jrfot) — Ver 6. Vollbehr suggests that the 
meaning of this line is, that though it is but one Play, it has a twofold 
plot — the intrigues of two young men with two mistresses, and the 
follies of two old men. As this Play is supposed to represent the 
events of two successive days, the night intervening, it has been 
suggested that the reading is " duplex — ex argumento — simplici f the 
Play is " twofold, with but one plot," as extending to two successive 
days. The Play derives its name from the Greek words, eavrbv, " him- 
self," and Tif-uooovpavog, " tormenting." 

3 To be a Pleader)— Ver. 11. He is to be the pleader and advocate 
of the Poet, to influence the Audience in his favour, and against his 
adversaries ; and not to explain the plot of the Play. Colman has the 
following observation : " It is impossible not to regret that there are 
not above ten lines of the Self-Tormentor preserved among the Frag- 
ments of Menander. We are so deeply interested by what we see of 
that character in Terence, that one cannot but be curious to enquire in 
what manner the Greek Poet sustained it through five Acts. The 
Roman author, though he has adopted the title of the Greek Play, has 
so altered the fable, that Menedemus is soon thrown into the back- 
ground, and Chremes is brought forward as the principal object; or, to 
vary the allusion a little, the Menedemus of Terence seems to be a 
drawing in miniature copied trom a full length, as large as the life, by 
Menander." 



THE SELF-TORMJENTOR. 137 

they have done. Then, as to a malevolent old Poet 1 saying 
that he has suddenly applied himself to dramatic pursuits, 
reiving on the genius of his friends, 2 and not his own natural 
abilities ; on that your judgment, your opinion, will prevail. 
Wherefore I do entreat you all. that the suggestions of our 
antagonists may not avail more than those of our favourers. 
Do you be fpvvourable; grant the means of prospering to 
those who afford you the means of being spectators of new 
Plays; those, I mean, without faults: that he may not suppose 
this said in his behalf who lately made the public give way 
to a slave as he ran along in the street f why should he take 
a madman's part ? About his faults he will say more when 
he brings out some other new ones, unless he puts an end to 
his cavilling. Attend with favourable feelings ; grant me the 
opportunity that I may be allowed to act a quiet Play 4 in 

1 A malevolent old Poet) — Yer. 22. He alludes to his old enemy, 
Luscus Lavinius, referred to in the preceding Prologue. 

- The genius of Ids friends) — Yer. 24. He alludes to a report 
which had been spread, that his friends Ltelius and Scipio had pub- 
lished their own compositions under his name. Servilius is also men- 
tioned by Eugraphius as another of his patrons respecting whom similar 
stories were circulated. 

3 As he ran along in the street) — Yer. 31. He probably does not 
intend to censure this practice entirely in Comedy, but to remind the 
Audience that in some recent Play of Luscus Lavinius, this had been 
the sole stirring incident introduced. Plautus introduces Mercury 
running in the guise of Sosia, in the fourth Scene of the Amphitryon, 
1. 987, and exclaiming, "For surely, why. faith, should I, a God, be 
any less allowed to threaten the public, if it doesn't get out of my 
way, than a slave in the Comedies?" This practice cannot, however, 
be intended to be here censured by Plautus, as he is guilty of it in three 
other instances. In the Mercator, Acanthio runs to his master Charinus, 
to tell him that his mistress Pasicompsa has been seen in the ship by his 
father Deroipho; in the Stichus, Pinacium, a slave, runs to inform his 
mistress Philumena that her husband has arrived in port, on his return 
from Asia; and in the Mostellaria, Tranio, in haste, brings informa- 
tion of the unexpected arrival of Theuropides. The " currens servus " 
is also mentioned in the Prologue to the Andria, 1. 36. See the 
soliloquy of Stasimus, in the Trinummus of Plautus, 1. 1007. 

4 A quiet Play) — Yer. 36. " Statariam." See the spurious Prologue 
to the Bacchides of Plautus, 1. 10, and the Xote to the passage in Bonn's 
Translation. The Comedy of the Romans was either " stataria," 
"motoria," or " mixta." " Stataria"' was a Comedy which was calm and 
peaceable, such as the Cistellaria of Plautus; "motoria" was one full 
of action and disturbance, like his Amphitiyon; while the "Comcedia 
mixta" was a mixture of both,, such as the Eunuchus of Terence. 



138 HEAUTONTIMORUMEKOSj Act I, 

silence; that the servant everlastingly running about, the 
angry old man, the gluttonous parasite, the impudent sharper, 
and the greedy procurer, may not have always to be per- 
formed by me with the utmost expense of voice, and the 
greatest exertion. For my sake come to the conclusion that 
this request is fair, that so some portion of my labour may be 
abridged. For now-a-days, those who write new Plays do 
not spare an aged man. If there is any piece requiring ex- 
ertion, they come running to me ; but if it is a light one, it is 
taken to another Company. In the present one the style is 
pure. Do you make proof, what, in each character, 1 my 
ability can effect. If I have never greedily set a, high price 
upon my skill, and have come to the conclusion that this is 
my greatest gain, as far as possible to be subservient to your 
convenience, establish in me a precedent, that the young may 
be anxious rather to please you than themselves. 



ACT THE FIEST. 

Scene I. 

Enter Chremes, and Menedemus ivith a spade in his hand, who 

falls to digging. 

Chrem. Although this acquaintanceship between us is of 
very recent date, from the time in fact of your purchasing an 
estate here in the neighbourhood, yet either your good 
qualities, or our being neighbours (which I take to be a 
sort of friendship), induces me to inform you, frankly and 
familiarly, that you appear to me to labour beyond your years, 
and beyond what your affairs require. For, in the name of 
Gods and men, what would you have ? What can be your 
aim ? You are, as I conjecture, sixty years of age, or more. 
ISTo man in these parts has a better or a more valuable estate, 
no one more servants ; and yet you discharge their duties 
just as diligently as if there were none at all. However early 
in the morning I go out, and however late in the evening I 

1 What in each character) — Yer. 47. " In utramque partem inge- 
nium quid possit meum." This line is entirely omitted in Vollbehr's 
edition ; but it appears to be merely a typographical error. 



Sc. I. THE SELF-TORMENTOR. 139 

return home, I see you either digging, or ploughing, or doing 
something, in fact, in the fields. You take respite not an 
instant, and are quite regardless of yourself. I am very sure 
that this is not done for your amusement. But really I am 
vexed how little work is done here. 1 If you were to employ 
the time you spend in labouring yourself, in keeping your 
servants at work, you would profit much more. 

Men. Have you so much leisure, Chremes, from your own 
affairs, that you can attend to those of others — those which 
don't concern you ? 

Chre^i. I am a man, 2 and nothing that concerns a man do 
I deem a matter of indifference to me. Suppose that I wish 

1 How little tvorh is done here) — Ver. 72. Vollbehr thinks that his 
meaning is, that he is quite vexed to see so little progress made, in spite 
of his neighbour's continual vexation and turmoil, and that, as he says in 
the next line, he is of opinion that if he were to cease working himself, 
and were to overlook his servants, he would get far more done. It is 
more generally thought to be an objection which Chremes suggests that 
Mendemus may possibly make. 

2 / am a man) — Yer. 77. " Homo sum: humani nihil a me alienum 
puto." St. Augustine says, that at the delivery of this sentiment, the 
Theatre resounded with applause; and deservedly, indeed, for it is 
replete with the very essence of benevolence and disregard of self. 
Cicero quotes the passage in his work De Officiis, B. i., c. 9. The 
remarks of Sir Richard Steele upon this passage, in the Spectator, 
Iso. 502, are worthy to be transcribed at length. " The Play was 
the Self-Tormentor. It is from the beginning to the end a perfect 
picture of human life, but I did not observe in the whole one passage 
that could raise a laugh. How well-disposed must that people be, who 
could be entertained with satisfaction by so sober and polite mirth ! 
In the first Scene of the Comedy, when one of the old me.i accuses the 
other of impertinence for interposing in his affairs, he answers, 6 I am a 
man, and cannot help feeling any sorrow that can arrive at man.' It 
is said this sentence was received with an universal applause. There 
cannot be a greater argument of the general good understanding of a 
people, than their sudden consent to give their approbation of a senti- 
ment which has no emotion in it. If it were spoken with ever so great 
skill in the actor, the manner of uttering that sentence could have 
nothing in it which could strike any but people of the greatest huma- 
nity — nay, people elegant and skilful in observation upon it. It is 
possible that he may have laid his hand on his heart, and with a 
winning insinuation in his countenance, expressed to his neighbour 
that he was a man who made his case his own ; yet I will engage, a 
player in Covent Garden might hit such an attitude a thousand times, 
before he would have been regarded/' 



140 HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS; Act I. 

either to advise you in this matter, or to be informed myself: 
if what you do is right, that I may do the same ; if it is not, 
then that I may dissuade you. 

Men. It's requisite for me to do so ; do you as it is neces- 
sary for you to do. 

Chrem. Is it requisite for any person to torment himself? 

Men. It is for me. 

Chkem. If you have any affliction, I could wish it other- 
wise. But prithee, what sorrow is this of yours? How 
have you deserved so ill of yourself? 

Men. Alas ! alas ! {He begins to iceep.) 

Chkem. Do not wee]3, but make me acquainted with it, 
whatever it is. Do not be reserved ; fear nothing; trust me, 
I tell you. Either by consolation, or by counsel, or by any 
means, I will aid you. 

Men. Do you wish to know this matter ? 

Chrem. Yes, and for the reason I mentioned to you. 

Men. I will tell you. 

Chrem. But still, in the mean time, lay down that rake 
don't fatigue yoiu-self. 

Men. By no means. 

Chrem. What can be your object ? [Tries to iaJce the ralce 
from him.) 

Men. Do leave me alone, that I may give myself no res- 
pite from my labour. 

Cheem. I will not allow it, I tell you. {Taking the rake from, 
Mm.) 

Men. Ah ! that's not fair. 

Chrem. {poising the rake.) Whew ! such a heavy one as 
this, pray ! 

Men. Such are my deserts. 

Chrem. Now speak. {Laying down the rake) 

Men. I have an only son, — a young man, — alas ! why did 
I say — "I have?" — rather I should say, "I had" one, 
Chremes : — whether I have him now, or not, is uncertain. 

Chrem. Why so ? 

Men. You shall know : — There is a poor old woman here, 
a stranger from Corinth : — her daughter, a young woman, 
he fell in love with, insomuch that he almost regarded her 
as his wife ; all this took place unknown to me. When I 
discovered the matter, I began to reprove him, not with 



Sc. I. THE SELP-TORMENTOR 111 

gentleness, nor in the way suited to the lore-sick mind of a 

O mm 

youth, but with violence, and after the usual method of 
fathers. I was daily reproaching him, — "Look you, do you 
expect to be allowed any longer to act thus, myself, your 
father, being alive ; to be keeping a mistress pretty much 
as though your wife ? You are mistaken, Clinia, and you 
don't know me, if you fancy that. I am willing that you 
should be called my son. just as long as you do what becomes 
vou ; but if vou do not do so. I shall find out how it becomes 

t/ } ml 

me to act towards you. This arises from nothing, in fact, 
but too much idleness. At your time of life, I did not 
devote my time to dalliance, but. in consequence of my poverty, 
departed hence for Asia, and there acquired in arms both 
riches and military dory.' 1 At length the matter came to 
this. — the youth, from hearing the same things so often, and 
with such severity, was overcome. He supposed that I, 
through age and affection, had more judgment and foresight 
for him than himself. He went on to Asia, Chremes, to 
serve under the king. 

Chre3I. What is it you soy ? 

Mex. He departed without my knowledge — and has been 
gone these three months. 

Chrem. Both are to be blamed — although I still think 
this step shows an ingenuous and enterprising disposition. 

Men. When I learnt this from those who were in the 
secret. I returned home sad, and with feelings almost 
overwhelmed and distracted through grief. I sit down ; 
my servants run to me ; they take off my shoes : l then 
some make all haste to spread the couches, 2 and to prepare a 
repast ; each according to his ability did zealously what lie 
could, in order to alleviate my sorrow. When I observed 
this, I began to reflect thus : — ''What ! are so many persons 
anxious for my sake alone, to pleasure mvself only? Are 

1 Take off my shoes) — Yer. 124. As to the "socci," or low shoes of 

the ancients, see the Xotes to the Trinunimus of Plautus, 1. 720. in 
Bohn*s Translation. It was the especial duty of certain slaves to take 
off the shoes of their masters. 

- To spread the couches) — Ver. 125. The f, 'lecti" or •'•'couches'' 
upon which the ancients reclined at meals, hare been enlarged upon in 
the Xotes to Plautus, where full reference is also made to the c: ccena/' or 
"dinner/'' and other meals of the Romans. 



142 HEAUTONTIMORUMEXOSj Act I. 

so many female servants to provide me with dress ? x Shall 
I alone keep up such an expensive establishment, while 
my only son, who ought equally, or even more so, to enjoy 
these things — inasmuch as his age is better suited for the 
enjoyment of them — him, poor youth, have I driven away 
from home by my severity ! Were I to do this, really I 
should deem myself deserving of any calamity. But so long 
as he leads this life of penury, banished from his country 
through my severity, I will revenge his wrongs upon myself, 
toiling, making money, saving, and laying up for him." At 
once I set about it ; I left nothing in the house, neither 
moveables 2 nor clothing ; everything I scraped together. 
Slaves, male and female, except those who could easily pay 
for their keep by working in the country, all of them I set 
up to aiiction and sold. I at once put up a bill to sell my 
house. 3 I collected somewhere about fifteen talents, and 
purchased this farm ; here I fatigue myself. I have come 
to this conclusion, Chremes, that I do my son a less injury, 
while I am unhappy ; and that it is not right for me to enjoy 
any pleasure here, until such time as he returns home safe to 
share it with me. 

Chrem. I believe you to be of an affectionate disposition 

1 Provide me with dress) — Ver. 130. It was the custom for tlie 
mistress and female servants in each iamily to make the clothes of the 
master. Thus in the Fasti ol Ovid, B. ii., 1. 746, Lucretia is found 
amid her female servants, making a cloak, or " lacerna," for her hus- 
band. Suetonius says that Augustus refused to wear any garments not 
woven by his female relations. Cooke seems to think that " vestiant " 
alludes to the very act of putting the clothes upon a person. He says, 
" The better sort of people had eating dresses, which are here alluded 
to. These dresses were light garments, to put on as soon as they had 
bathed. They commonly bathed before eating, and the chief meal was 
in the evening." This, however, does not seem to be the meaning of 
the passage, although Colman has adopted it. We may here remark 
that the censure here described is not unlike that mentioned in the 
Prologue to the Mercator of Plautus, as administered by Demsenetus 
to his son Charinus. 

2 Neither moveables) —Ver. 141. " Yas" is here used as a general 
name for articles of furniture. This line appears to be copied almost 
literally from one of Menander, which still exists. 

3 To sell my house) — Ver. 145. On the mode of advertising houses 
to let or be sold among the Eomans, see the Trinummus of Plautug, 
1. 168, and the Note to the passage in Bohn's Translation. 



Sc. I. THE SELF-TORMENTOR. 143 

towards your children, 1 and him to be an obedient son, if one 
were to manage him rightly or prudently. But neither did 
you understand him sufficiently well, nor he you — a thing 
that happens where persons don't live on terms of frankness 
together. You never showed him how highly you valued 
him, nor did he ever dare put that confidence in you which 
is due to a father. Had this been done, these troubles would 
never have befallen you. 

Men. Such is the fact, I confess; the greatest fault -is 
on my side. 

Chre3I. But still, Menedemus, I hope for the best, and I 
trust that he'll be here safe before long. 

Men. Oh that the Gods would grant it ! 

Chrem. They will do so. Now, if it is convenient to you — 
the festival of Bacchus 2 is being kept here to-day — I wish 
you to give me your company. 

1 Toicards your children)— Ver. 151. The plural "liberos" is here 
used tc signify the one son which Menedemus has. So in the Hecyra, 
1. 217, the same word is used to signify but one daughter. This was a 
common mode of expression in the times of the earlier Latin authors. 

2 festival of Bacchus, " Dionysia")—Yer. 162. It is generally sup- 
posed that there were four Festivals called the Dionysia, during the year, 
at Athens. The first was the Rural, or Lesser Dionysia, icar' aypovs, 
a vintage festival, which was celebrated in the " Demi " or boroughs of 
Attica, in honor of Bacchus, in the month Poseidon. This was the 
most ancient of the Festivals, and was held with the greatest merriment 
and freedom; the slaves then enjoyed the same amount of liberty as 
they did at the Saturnalia at Rome. The second Festival, which was 
called the Lenaea, from Xijvoc, a wine-press, was celebrated in the 
month Gamelion, with Scenic contests in Tragedy and Comedy. The 
third Dionysian Festival was the Anthesteria, or " Spring feast," being- 
celebrated during three days in the month Anthesterion. The first 
day was called 7ri9oiyia, or " the Opening of the casks,'' as on that day 
the casks were opened to taste the wine of the preceding year. The 
second day was called x 06 Q> fr° m X°"£s " a CU P/' and was probably devoted 
to drinking. The third day was called x vT p°K from x VT pog, " a pot," 
as on it persons offered pots with flower-seeds or cooked vegetables 
to Dionysus or Bacchus. The fourth Attic festival of Dionysius was 
celebrated in the month Elaphebolion, and was called the Dionysia 
lv glutei, Agtikcl, or MsyaXd, the "City" or "great" festival. It was 
celebrated with great magnificence, processions and dramatic represen- 
tations forming part of the ceremonial. From Greece, by way of Sicily, 
the Bacchanalia, or festivals of Bacchus, were introduced into Rome, 
where they became the scenes of and pretext for every kind of vice and 



144 HEAUTONTIMOKUMEKOS; Act I. 

Men. I cannot. 

Chrem. "Why not ? Do, pray, spare yourself a little while. 
Your absent son would wish you do so. 

Men". It is not right that I, who have driven him hence 
to endure hardships, should now shun them myself. 

Chrem. Is such your determination ? 

Men. It is. 

Chrem. Then kindly fare you well. 

Men. And you the same. {Goes into his house!) 



Scene II. 

Chremes, alone. 

Chrem. {to himself) He has forced tears from me, and I 
do pity him. But as the day is far gone, I must remind 
Phania, this neighbour of mine, to come to dinner. I'll go 
see whether he is at home. ( Goes to Phania's door, makes the 
enquiry, and returns.) There was no occasion for me to 
remind him : they tell me he has been some time already 
at my house ; it's I myself am making my guests wait. I'll 
go in-doors immediately. But what means the noise at the 
door of my house ? I wonder who's coming out ! I'll step 
aside here. {Hi stands aside.) 

Scene III. 

Enter Clitipho, from the house of Chremes. 

Clit. {at the door, to Clinia within.) There is nothing, 
Clinia, for you to fear as yet : they have not been long by 
any means : and I am sure that she will be with you pre- 
sently along with the messenger. Do at once dismiss these 
causeless apprehensions which are tormenting you. 

debauchery, until at length they were put down in the year B.C. 187, 
with a strong hand, by the Consuls Spurius Posthumius Albinus and 
Q. Marcius Philippus; from which period the words "bacchor" and 
"bacchator" became synonymous with the practice of every kind of 
vice and turpitude that could outrage common decency. See a very 
full account of the Dionysia and the Bacchanalia in Dr. Smith's 
Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities. 



Sc. II]. THE SELF-TORMENTOR. 145 

Chrem. {apart) Who is my son talking to ? (Hakes his 
appearance.) 

Clit. (to himself.) Here comes my father, whom I wished to 
see : I'll accost him. Father, you have met me opportunely. 

Chrem. What is the matter ? 

Cut. Do you know this neighbour of ours, Menedemus ? 

Chrem. Very well. 

Clit. Do you know that he has a son ? 

Chrem. I have heard that he has ; in Asia. 

Clit. He is not in Asia, father ; he is at our house. 

Chrem. What is it you say? 

Clit. Upon his arrival, after he had just landed from the 
ship, I immediately brought him to dine with us ; for from 
our very childhood upwards I have always been on intimate 
terms with him. 

Chrem. You announce to me a great pleasure. How much 
I wish that Menedemus had accepted my invitation to make 
one of us : that at my house I might have been the first to 
surprise him, when not expecting it, with this delight ! — and 
even yet there's time enough 

Clit. Take care what you do ; there is no necessity, 
father, for doing so. 

Chrem. For what reason ? 

Clit. Why, because he is as yet undetermined what to 
do with himself. He is but just arrived. He fears every 
thing ; his father's displeasure, and how his mistress may 
be disposed towards him. He loves her to distraction : on 
her account, this trouble and. going abroad took place. 

Chrem. I know it. 

Clit. He has just sent a servant into the city to her, 
and I ordered our Syrus to go with him. 

Chrem. What does Clinia say ? 

Clit. What does he say ? That he is wretched. 

Chrem. Wretched ? Whom could we less suppose so ? What 
is there wanting for him to enjoy every thing that among 
men, in fact, are esteemed as blessings ? Parents, a country 
in prosperity, friends, family, relations, riches ? And yet, 
all these are just according to the disposition of him who 
possesses them. To him who knows how to use them, they 
are blessings ; to him who does not use them rightly, they 
are evils. 



146 HEAUTOXTIMORUMENOS ; Act IL 

Clit. Aye, but he always was a morose old man ; and now 
I dread nothing more, father, than that in his displeasure 
he'll be doing something to him more than is justifiable. 

Chrem. What, he? (Aside.) But I'll restrain myself; for 
that the other one should be in fear of his father is of ser- 
vice to him. 1 

Clit. What is it you are saying to yourself? 

Chre:m . I'll tell you. However the case stood, Clinia ought 
still to have remained at home. Perhaps his father was a little 
stricter than he liked : he should have put up with it. For 
whom ought he to bear with, if he would not bear with his 
own father ? Was it reasonable that he should live after his 
sons humour, or his son after his ? And as to charging him 
with harshness, it is not the fact. For the severities of fathers 
are generally of one character, those I mean who are in some 
degree reasonable men. 2 They do not wish their sons to be 
rlways wenching ; they do not wish them to be always 
carousing ; they give a limited allowance ; and yet all this 
tends to virtuous conduct. But when the mind, Clitipho, 
has once enslaved itself by vicious appetites, it must of 
necessity follow similar pursuits. This is a wise maxim, 
" to take warning from others of what may be to your own 
advantage." 

Clit. I believe so. 

Chrem. I'll now go hence in-doors, to see what we have 
for dinner. Do you, seeing what is the time of day, mind 
and take care not to be anywhere out of the way, (Goes 
into his home, and exit Clitipho.) 



ACT THE SECOND. 

SCEKE I. 

Enter Clitipho. 

Clit. (to himself.) What partial judges are all fathers in 
regard to all of us young men, in thinking it reasonable for 

1 Is of service to Mm) — Yer. 199. He means tliat it is to the 
advantage of Clitipho that Clinia should be seen to stand in awe of his 
father. 

2 Reasonable men)— Yer. 205. "Homo," "anian/' is here put for meD 
in general who are lathers. 



Sc. IL THE SZLF-TOBMZyTOB. 147 

m$ fcfl I ecome old men all at once from boys, and not to 
participate in those things which youth is naturally inclined 
to. They regulate us by their own desires, — such as they 
now are. — not as they once were. If ever I have a son, 
he certainly shall find in me an indulgent father. For the 
means both of knowing and of pardoning 1 his faults shall be 

1 by me: not like mine, who by means of another person, 
discloses to me his own sentiments. I'm plagued to death, 
— when he drinks a little more than usual, what pranks of 
his own he does relate to me! Now he say-. " Take warn- 

zrom others of what may be to your advantage/' How 

wd ! He certainly does not know hew deaf I am at the 

m meat when he's telling his stories. Just now. the words 

of my mistress make more impression upon me. " G-ive me 

and bring me that," she cries: I have nothing to say 

to her in answer, and no one is there more wretched than 

rlf. But this Ciinia, although he, as well, has cares 
enough of his own, still has a 'mistress of virtuous and modest 
breeding, and a stranger to the arts of a courtesan. Mine is 
a craving, saucy, haughty, extravagant creature, fall of lofty 
airs. Then all that I have to give her is — fair words 2 — for 
I make it a point not to tell her that I have nothing. This 
misfortune I met with not lon^ since, nor does mv father as 
vet know anything of the matter. 

[Exit. 
Scene II. 

Enter Qnsix from the house of Chre^ies. 

Clix. (to himself) If my love-affairs had been prosperous 
i '■■_■■ me, I am sure she would have been here by this ; but 
I'm afraid that the damsel has been led astray here in my 
absence. Many things combine to strengthen this opinion 
in my mind • opporttinity, the place, her age, a worthless 

- Of knowing and of pardoning) — Ter. 218. There is a jingle 
intended here in the resemblance of the words u cognoscendi," w know- 
ing," and " ignoseendi," "'•pardoning." 

- Is— fair words) — Yer. 22S. " Eeete est." It is supposed that 
lie pauses before uttering these words, which mean " very well," or 
u very good," implying the giving an assent without making a promise ; 
he tells the reason, in saying that he has scruples or prejudices against 
confessing that he has got nothing to give her. 



148 HEAUTONTIMORUMENOSj Act II. 

mother, under whose control she is, with whom nothing but 
gain is precious. 

Enter Clitipho. 

Clit. Clinia! 

Clin. Alas ! wretched me ! 

Clit. Do, pray, take care that no one coming out of your 
father's house sees you here by accident. 

Clin. I will do so; but really my mind presages I know 
not what misfortune. 

Clit. Do you persist in making up your mind upon that, 
before you know what is the fact ? 

Clin. Had no misfortune happened, she would have been 
here by this. 

Clit. She'll be here presently. 

Clin. "When will that presently be ? 

Clit. You don't consider that it is a great way from 
here. 1 Besides, you know the ways of women, while they are 
bestirring themselves, and while they are making prepa- 
rations a whole year passes by. 

Clin. O Clitipho, I'm afraid 

Clit. Take courage. Look, here comes Dromo, together 
with Syrus: they are close at hand. {They stand aside.) 

Scene III. 
Enter Syrus and Dromo, conversing at a distance. 

Syr. Do you say so ? 

Dro. 'Tis as I told you, — but in the meantime, while 
we've been carrying on our discourse, these women have been 
left behind. 

Clit. {apart.) Don't you hear, Clinia ? Your mistress is 
close at hand. 

Clin, {apart.) Why yes, I do hear now at last, and I see 
and revive, Clitipho. 

Dro. No wonder ; they are so encumbered ; they are 
bringing a troop of female attendants 2 with them. 

1 Great way from here) — Yer. 239. That is, from the place where 
they are, in the country, to Athens. 

2 Troop of female attendants)— Ver. 245. The train and expenses 
of a courtesan of high station are admirably depicted in the speech 
of Lysiteles, in the Trinummus ofPlautus, 1. 252. 



Sc. III. THE SELF-TORMENTOR. 149 

Clin, {apart.) I'm undone ! Whence come these female 
attendants ? 

Clit. {apart.) Do you ask me ? 

Syr. We ought not to have left them ; what a quantity 
of things they are bringing ! 

Clin, {apart.) Ah me ! 

Syr. Jewels of gold, and clothes ; it's growing late too, 
and they don't know the way. It was very foolish of us to 
leave them. Just go back, Drorao, and meet them. Make 
haste — why do you delay ? {Exit Dromo. 

Clin, {apart) Woe unto wretched me ! — from what high 
hopes am I fallen ! 

Clit. {apart.) What's the matter ? Why, what is it that 
troubles you ? 

Clin, {apart.) Do you ask what it is ? Why, don't you 
see? Attendants, jewels of gold, and clothes, her too, whom 
I left here with only one little servant girl. Whence do 
you suppose that they come ? 

Clit. {apart) Oh ! now at last I understand you. 

Syr. {to himself.) Good Gods ! what a multitude there 
is ! Our house will hardly hold them, I'm sure. How much 
they will eat ! how much they will drink ! what will there 
be more wretched than our old gentleman ? {Catching sight 
ofCLimA and Clitipho.) But look, I espy the persons I was 
wanting. 

Clin, {apart.) Oh Jupiter ! Why, where is fidelity gone ? 
While I, distractedly wandering, have abandoned my country 
for your sake, you, in the meantime, Antiphila, have been 
enriching yourself, and have forsaken me in these troubles, 
you for whose sake I am in extreme disgrace, and have been 
disobedient to my father ; on whose account I am now 
ashamed and grieved, that he who used to lecture me about 
the manners of these women, advised me in vain, and was 
not able to wean me away from her : — which, however, I 
shall now do; whereas when it might have been advantageous 
to me to do so, I was unwilling. There is no being more 
wretched than I. 

Syr. {to himself.) He certainly has been misled by our 
words which we have been speaking here. {Aloud.) Clinia, you 
imagine your mistress quite different from what she really is. 
For both her mode of life is the same, and her disposition 



150 hsautontimohumenos; Act II. 

towards you is the same as it always was ; so far as we could 
form a judgment from the circumstances themselves. 

Clin. How so, prithee ? For nothing in the world could 
I rather wish for just now, than that I have suspected 
this without reason. 

Syr. This, in the first place, then (that you may not be 
ignorant of anything that concerns her) ; the old woman, 
who was formerly said to be her mother, was not so. — She is 
dead : this I overheard by accident from her, as we came 
along, while she was telling the other one. 

Clit. Pray, who is the other one ? 

Syr. Stay; what I have begun I wish first to relate, 
Clitipho ; I shall come to that afterwards. 

Clit. Make haste, then. 

Syr. First of all, then, when we came to the house, 
Dromo knocked at the door ; a certain old woman came out ; 
when she opened the door, he directly rushed in ; I followed ; 
the old woman bolted the door, and returned to her wool. 
On this occasion might be known, Clinia, or else on none, 
in what pursuits she passed her life during your absence ; 
when we tints came upon a female unexpectedly. For this 
circumstance then gave us an opportunity of judging of the 
course of her daily life ; a thing which especially discovers 
what is the disposition of each individual. We found her 
industriously plying at the web ; plainly clad in a mourning- 
dress, 1 on account of this old woman, I suppose, who was 
lately dead ; without golden ornaments, dressed, besides, just 
like those who only dress for themselves, and patched up with 
no worthless woman's trumpery. 2 Her hair was loose, long, 

1 In a mourning dress) — Yer. 286. Among the Greeks, in general, 
mourning for the dead seems to have lasted till the thirtieth day after 
the funeral, and during that period black dresses were worn. The 
Eomans also wore mourning for the dead, which seems, in the time of the 
Kepublic, to have been black or dark blue for either sex. Under the 
Empire the men continued to wear black, but the women wore white. 
No jewels or ornaments were worn upon these occasions. 

2 With no worthless woman's trumpery) — Ver. 289. By "nulla 
mala re muliebri" he clearly means that they did not find her painted 
up with the cosmetics which some women were in the habit of using. 
Such preparations for the face as white-lead, wax, antimony, or ver- 
milion,well deserve the name of " mala res." A host of these cosmetics 
will be found described in Ovid's Fragment " On the Care of the Com- 



Sc. III. THE SELF-TORMENTOR. 151 

and thrown back negligently about her temples. (To Clixia.) 
Do bold your peace. 1 

Clin. My dear Syrus, do not without cause throw me 
into ecstasies, I beseech you. 

Syr. The old woman was spinning the woof : 2 there was 
one little servant girl besides ; — she was weaving 3 together 
with them, covered with patched clothes, slovenly, and dirty 
with nithiness. 

Clit. If this is true, Clinia, as I believe it is, who is there 
more fortunate than you ? Do you mark this girl whom 
he speaks of, as dirty and drabbish ? This, too, is a strong 
indication that the mistress is out of harm's way, when her 
confidant is in such ill plight ; for it is a rule with those 
who wish to gain access to the mistress, first to bribe the maid. 

Clin, (to Sykus.) Go on, I beseech you ■ and beware of 
endeavouring to purchase favour by telling an untruth. 
What did she say, when you mentioned me? 

Syr. When we told her that you had returned, and had 
requested her to come to you, the damsel instantly put away 
the web, and covered her face ail over with tears ; so that 

plexion," and much in f ormation upon this subject is given in various pas" 
sages in the Art of Love. In the Remedy of Love, 1. 351, Ovid speaks of 
these practices in the following terms : "At the moment, too, when she 
shall be smearing her face with the cosmetics laid up on it, you may come 
into the presence of your mistress, and don't let shame prevent you. You 
will find there boxes, and a thousand colours of objects; and you will 
see ' cesypum,' the ointment of the fleece, trickling down and flowing 
upon her heated bosom. These drugs, Phineus, smell like thy tables ; 
not once alone has sickness been caused by this to my stomach." Lucre- 
tius also, in his Fourth Book, 1. 1163, speaks of a female who "covers 
herself with noxious odours, and whom her female attendants fly from 
to a distance, and chuckle by stealth." See also the Mostellaria of 
Plautus, Act I., Scene 3, 1. 135, where Philematium is introduced making 
her toilet on the stage. 

1 Do hold your peace) — Yer. 291. "Pax," literally ''peace !" in the 
sense of " Hush ! " " Be quiet ! " See the Notes to the Trinummus of 
Plautus, 11. 8S9-891, in Bonn's Translation. 

- The woof) — Yer. 293. See an interesting passage on the ancient 
weaving, in the Metamorphoses of Ovid, B. vi., 1. 54, et seq. See also 
the Epistle of Penelope to Ulysses, in the Heroides of Ovid, 1. 10, and 
the Note in Bohn's English Translation. 

3 She was weaving) — Yer. 294. This line and part of the next are 
supposed to have been translated almost literally from some lines, the 
composition of Menander, which are still extant. 



152 HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS; Act II. 

you might easily perceive that it really was caused by her 
affection for you. 

Clin. So may the Deities bless me, I know not where I am 
for joy! I was so alarmed before. 

Clit. But I was sure that there was no reason, Clinia. 
Come now, Syrus, tell one, in my turn, who this other lady is. 

Syr. Your Bacchis, whom we are brinoino-. 1 

Clit. Ha! What! Bacchis? How now, you rascal! 
whither are you bringing her? 

Syr. Whither am I bringing her ? To our house, to be 
sure. 

Clit. What ! to my father's ? 

Syr. To the very same. 

Clit. Oh, the audacious impudence of the fellow! 

Syr. Hark'ye, no great and memorable action is done 
without some risk. 

Clit. Look now ; are you seeking to gain credit for your- 
self, at the hazard of my character, } ou rascal, in a point, 
where, if you only make the slightest slip, I am ruined ? 
What would you be doing with her? 

Syr. But still 

Clit. Why "still?" 

Syr. If you'll give me leave, I'll tell you. 

Clin. Do give him leave. 

Clit. I give him leave then. 

Syr. This affair is now just as though when 

Clit. Plague on it, what roundabout story is he beginning 
to tell me ? 

Clin. Syrus, he says what's right — do omit digressions ; 
come to the point. 

Syr. Beally I cannot hold my tongue. Clitipho, you are 
every way unjust, and cannot possibly be endured. 

Clin. Upon my faith, he ought to have a hearing. {To 
Clitipho.) Do be silent. 

Syr. You wish to indulge in your amours ; you wish to 
possess your mistress; you wish that to be procured where- 

1 Your Bacchis, whom we are bringing) — Yer. 310. Colman has 
the following remark : " Here we enter upon the other part of the 
table, which the Poet has most artfully complicated with the main 
subject by making Syrus bring Clitipho's mistress along with Anti- 
phila. This part of the story, we know, was not in Menander." 



Sc. III. THE SELF-T0R3IEXT0R, 153 

withal to make her presents ; in getting this, you do not 
wish the risk to be your own. You are not wise to no pur- 
pose, — if indeed it is being wise to wish for that which can- 
not happen. Either the one must be had with the other, or 
the one must be let alone with the other. Now, of these two 
alternatives, consider which one you would prefer ; although 
this project which I have formed, I know to be both a wise 
and a safe one. For there is an opportunity for your mis- 
tress to be with you at your father's house, without fear of a 
discovery ; besides, by these self-same means, I shall find the 
money which you have promised her — to effect which, you 
have already made my ears deaf with entreating me. What 
would you have more ? 

Cut. If, indeed, this could be brought about 

Syr. If, indeed ? You shall know it by experience. 

Clit. Well, well, disclose this project of •ours. What 
is it? 

Syr. We will pretend that your mistress is his (pointing to 
Clinia). 

Clit. "Very fine ! Tell me, what is he to do with his own ? 
Is she, too, to be called his, as if one was not a sufficient 
discredit ? 

Syr. No — she shall be taken to your mother. 

Clit. Why there? 

Syr. It would be tedious, Clitipho, if I were to tell you 
why I do so ; I have a good reason. 

Clit. Stuff! I see no grounds sufficiently solid why it 
should be for my advantage to incur this risk. 1 {Turning 
as if going.) 

Syr. Stay ; if there is this risk, I have another project, 
which you must both confess to be free from danger. 

Clit. Find out something of that description, I beseech 
you. 

Syr. By all means ; I'll go meet her, and tell her to return 
home. 

Clit. Ha ! what was it you said ? 

Syr. I'll rid you at once of all fears, so that you may 
sleep at your ease upon either ear. 1 

Incur this risk) — Yer. 337. As to his crwn mistress. 
2 Upon either ear) — Yer. 342. " In aiirem utramvis," a proverbial 
expression, implying an easy and secure repose. It is also used by 



154 HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS; Act II. 

Clit. What am I to do now? 

Clin. What are you to do ? The goods that 

Clit. Only tell me the truth, Syrus. 

Syr. Dispatch quickly; you'll be wishing just now too 
late and in vain. (Going.) 

Clin. The Gods provide, enjoy while yet you may; for 
you know not 

Clit. {calling?) Syrus, I say ! 

Syr. (moving on.) Go on ; I shall still do that which 1 
said. 1 

Clin. Whether you may have another opportunity here- 
after or ever again. 

Clit. 1 'faith, that's true. (Calling.) Syrus, Syrus, I say, 
harkye, harkye, Syrus! 

Syr. (aside.) He warms a little. (To Clitipho.) What is 
it you want ? 

Clit. Come back, come back. 

Syr. (coming hack to him.) Here I am ; tell me what you 
would have. You'll be presently saying that this, too, 
doesn't please you. 

Clit. ISTay, Syrus, I commit myself, and my love, and my 
reputation entirely to you : you are the seducer ; take care 
you don't deserve any blame. 

Syr. It is ridiculous for you to give me that caution, 
Clitipho, as if my interest was less at stake in this affair than 
yours. Here, if any ill luck should perchance befall us, 
words will be in readiness for you, hut for this individual 
blows (pointing to himself). For that reason, this matter is 
by no means to be neglected on my part : but do prevail 
upon him (pointing to Clinia) to pretend that she is his 
own mistress. 

Clin. You may rest assured I'll do so. The matter has 
now come to that pass, that it is a case of necessity. 

Clit. 'Tis with good reason that I love you, Clinia. 

Plautus, and is found in a fragment of the UXoklov, or Necklace,, a 
Comedy of Menander. 

1 Still do that which I said) — Yer. 346. "Perge porro, tamen istuc 
ago." Stallbaum observes that the meaning is: " Although I'm going 
oft, I'm still attending to what you're saying." According to Schmieder 
and others, it means: "Call on just as you please, I shall persist in 
sending Bacchis away." 



Sc. III. THE SELF-TORMEXTOR. 155 

Clin. But she mustn't be tripping at all. 

Syr. She is thoroughly tutored in her part. 

Clit. But this I wonder at, how you could so easily pre- 
vail upon her, who is wont to treat such great people 1 with 
scorn. 

Syr. I came to her at the proper moment, which in all 
things is of the first importance : for there I found a certain 
wretched captain soliciting her favours : she artfully managed 
the man, so as to inflame his eager passions by denial ; and 
this, too, that it might be especially pleasing to yourself. 
But hark you, take care, will you, not to be imprudently 
impetuous. You know your father, how quicksighted he is 
in these matters ; and I know you, how unable you are to 
command yourself. Keep clear of words of double mean- 
ing, 2 your sidelong looks, sighing, hemming, coughing, tit- 
tering. 

Clit. You shall have to commend me. 

Syr.. Take care of that, please. 

Clit. You yourself shall be surprised at me. 

Syr. But how quickly the ladies have come up with us ! 

Clit. Where are they r (Syrus stands before him.) "Why 
do you hold me back ? 

Syr. For the present she is nothing to you. 

Cut. I know it, before my father ; but now in the mean- 
time 

Syr. Not a bit the more. 

Clit. Do let me. 

Sye. I will not let you, I tell you. 

Clit. But only for a moment, pray. 

i Such great people) — Yer. 363. "Qnos," literally, "What 
persons !" 

2 Words of double meaning) —Ye?. 372. " Inversa verba, eversas 
cervices tuas." "'Inversa verba" clearly means, words with a double 
meaning, or substituted for others by previous arrangement, like cor- 
respondence by cypher. Lucretius uses the words in this sense, B. i., 
1. 643. A full account of the secret signs and correspondence in use 
among the ancients, will be found in the 16th and 17th Epistles of the 
Heroides of Ovid, in his Amours, B. i., El. 4, and in various passages of 
the Art of Love. See also the Asinaria of Plautus, 1. 7S0. It is not 
known for certain what "eversa cervix"' here means; it may mean the 
turning of the neck in some particular manner by way of a hint or to 
give a sidelong look, or it may allude to the act of snatching a kiss on 
the sly, which might lead to a discovery. 



156 heautontimorumenos; Act II. 

Syr. I forbid it. 

Clit. Only to salute her. 

Syr. If you are wise, get yon gone. 

Clit. I'm off. But what's he to do ? {Pointing at Clinia.) 

Syr. He will stay here. 

Clit. O happy man ! 

Syr. Take yourself off. {Exit Clitipho. 



SCENE IY. 

Enter Bacchis and Antiphila at a distance. 

Bacchis. Upon my word, my dear Antiphila, I commend 
you, and think you fortunate in having made it your study 
that your manners should be conformable to those good looks 
of yours: and so may the G-ods bless me, I do not at all wonder 
if every man is in love with you. For your discourse has been 
a proof to me what kind of disposition you possess. And 
when now I reflect in my mind upon your way of life, and that 
of all of you, in fact, who keep the public at a distance from 
yourselves, it is not surprising both that you are of that 
disposition, and that we are not ; for it is your interest to 
be virtuous ; those, with whom we are acquainted, will not 
allow us to oe so. For our lovers, allured merely by our 
beauty, court us for that; when that has faded, they transfer 
their affections elsewhere ; and unless we have made provi- 
sion in the meantime for the future, we live in destitution. 
Now with you, when you have once resolved to pass your 
life with one man whose manners are especially kindred to 
your own, those persons 1 become attached to you. By this 
kindly feeling, you are truly devoted to each other ; and no 
calamity ean ever possibly interrupt your love. 

Anti. I know nothing about other women : I'm sure that 
I have, indeed, always used every endeavour to derive my 
own happiness from his happiness. 

Clin, {apart, overhearing Antiphila.) Ah! 'tis for that 
reason, my Antiphila, that you alone have now caused me to 
return to my native country ; for while I was absent from 

1 A man whose manners — those persons) — Ver. 393. " Cujus— hi;" 
a change of number by the use of the figure Enallage. 



Sc. IV. THE SELF-TORMENTOR. 157 

you, all other hardships which I encountered were light to 
me, save the being deprived of you. 

Syr. [apart.) I believe it. 

Clix. {apart.) Syrus, I can scarce endure it ! * Wretch that 
I am, that I should not be allowed to possess one of such a 
disposition at my own discretion ! 

Syr. Nay, so far as I understand your father, he will for 
a long time yet be giving you a hard task. 

Bacch. Why, who is that young man that's looking at us ? 

Axti. (seeing Clinia.) Ah! do support me, I entreat 
you! 

Bacch. Prithee, what is the matter with you ? 

Axti. I shall die, alas ! I shall die ! 

Bacch. Why are you thus surprised, Antiphila ? 

Ann. Is it Clinia that I see, or not ? 

Bacch. Whom do you see ? 

Clix. (running to embrace Axtiphila.) Blessings on you, 
my life! 

Axti. Oh my long- wished for Clinia, blessings on you ! 

Clix. How fare you, my love? 

Axti. I'm overjoyed that you have returned safe. 

Clix. And do I embrace you, Antiphila, so passionately 
longed for by my soul ? 

Syr. Go in-doors ; for the old gentleman has been waiting 
for us some time. (They go into the house of Chremes.) 

1 I can scarce endure it) — Ver. 400. Colman has the following 
remark on this passage : " Madame Dacier, contrary to the authority of 
all editions and MSS,, adopts a conceit of her fathers in this place, and 
places this speech to Clitipho, whom she supposes to have retired to a 
hiding-place, where he might overhear the conversation, and from 
whence he peeps out to make this speech to Syrus. This she calls an 
agreeable jeu de theatre, and doubts not but all lovers of Terence will 
be obliged to her father for so ingenious a remark; but it is to be 
feared that critical sagacity will not be so lavish of acknowledgments as 
filial piety. There does not appear the least foundation for this remark 
in the Scene, nor has the Poet given us the least room to doubt of 
Clitipho being actually departed. To me, instead of an agreeable jeu 
de theatre, it appears a most absurd and ridiculous device ; particularly 
vicious in this place, as it most injudiciously tends to interrupt the 
course of Clinia's more interesting passion, so admirably delineated in 
this little Scene." 



158 HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS j Act III. 

ACT THE THIRD. 

Scene I. 
Enter Cheemesj^^^ his house. 

Chrem. (to himself.) It is now daybreak. 1 Why do I delay- 
to knock at my neighbour's door, that he may learn from me 
the first that his son has returned ? Although I am aware that 
the youth would not prefer this. But when I see him tor- 
menting himself so miserably about his absence, can I con- 
ceal a joy so unhoped for, especially when there can be no 
danger to him from the discovery? I will not do so; but as 
far as I can I will assist the old man. As I see my son 
aiding his friend and years-mate, and acting as his confidant 
in his concerns, it is but right that we old men as well should 
assist each other. 

Enter MENEDEMUSjfrom his house. 

Men. (to himself.) Assuredly I was either born with a 
disposition peculiarly suited for misery, or else that saying 
which I hear commonly repeated, that " time assuages human 
sorrow," is false. For really my sorrow about my son in- 
creases daily ; and the longer he is away from me, the more 
anxiously do I wish for him, and the more I miss him. 

Chrem. (apart.) But I see him coming out of his house ; I'll 
go speak to him. (Aloud.) Menedemus, good morrow ; I bring 
you news, which you would especially desire to be imparted. 

Men. Pray, have you heard anything about my son, 
Chremes ? 

Chrem. He's alive, and well. 

Men. Why, where is he, pray? 

1 It is now daybreak) — Yer. 410. Though this is the only Play which 
includes more than one day in the action, it is not the only one in which 
the day is represented as breaking. The Amphitryon and the Curculio 
of Plautus commence before daybreak, and the action is carried on into 
the middle of the day. Madame Dacier absolutely considers it as a 
fact beyond all doubt, that the Koman Audience went home after the 
first two Acts ot the Play, and returned for the representation of the 
third the next morning at daybreak. Scaliger was of the same opinion; 
but it is not generally entertained by Commentators. 



Sc. I. THE SELF-TOEMEOTOR. 159 

Chrem. Here, at my house, at home. 

Men. My son ? 

Chrem. Such is the fact. 

Men. Come home? 

Chrem. Certainly. 

Men. My son, Clinia, come home ? 

Chrem. I say so. 

Men. Let us go. Lead me to him, I beg of you. 

Chrem. He does not wish you yet to know of his return, 
and he shims your presence ; he's afraid that, on account of 
that fault, your former severity may even be increased. 

Men. Did you not tell him how I was affected ? * 

Chrem. ]STo 

Men. For what reason, Chremes ? 

Chrem. Because there you would judge extremely ill both 
for yourself and for him, if you were to show yourself of a 
spirit so weak and irresolute. 

Men. I cannot help it : enough already, enough, have I 
proved a rigorous father. 

Chrem. Ah Menedemus ! you are too precipitate in either 
extreme, either with profuseness or with parsimony too 
great. Into the same error will you fall from the one side 
as from the other. In the first place, formerly, rather than 
allow your son to visit a young woman, who was then 
content with a very little, and to whom anything was accep- 
table, you frightened him away from here. After that, she 
began, quite against her inclination, to seek a subsistence upon 
the town. Now, when she cannot be supported without a 
great expense, you are ready to give anything. For, that 
you may know how perfectly she is trained to extravagance, 
in the first place, she has already brought with her more 
tbaa ten female attendants, all laden with clothes and jewels 
of gold; if a satrap 2 had been her admirer, he never could 
support her expenses, much less can you. • 

Men. Is she at your house ? 

Chrem. Is she, do you ask ? I have felt it ; for I have 

1 How I was affected)— Yev. 436. "Ut essem," literally, "How I 
was." 

% If a satrap) — Yer. 452. "Satrapa" was a Persian word signifying 
"a ruler of a province/' The name was considered as synonymous 
with " possessor of wealth almost inexhaustible." 



160 HEAUTONTIMOEUMENOS; Act III. 

given her and her retinue one dinner ; had I to give them 
another such, it would be all over with me; for, to pass by 
other matters, what a quantity of wine she did consume for 
me in tasting only, 1 saying thus, " This wine is too acid, 2 
respected sir, 3 do please look for something more mellow." 
I opened all the casks, all the vessels; she kept all on the 
stir: and this hut a single night. What do you suppose 
will become of you when they are constantly preying upon 
you ? So may the Gods prosper me, Menedemus, I do pity 
your lot. 

Men. Let him do what he will \ let him take, waste, and 
squander \ I'm determined to endure it, so long as I only 
have him with me. 

1 In tasting only) — Yer. 457. "Pytiso"was the name given to the 
nasty practice of tasting wine, and then spitting it out; offensive in a 
man, but infinitely more so in a woman. It seems in those times 
to have been done by persons who wished to give themselves airs in 
the houses of private persons; at the present day it is probably confined 
to wine-vaults and sale-rooms where wine is put up to auction, and even 
there it is practised much more than is either necessary or agreeable. 
Doubtless Bacchis did it to show her exquisite taste in the matter of 
wines. 

2 Is too acid) — Yer. 458. " Asperum;" meaning that the wine was 
not old enough for her palate. The great fault of the Greek wines was 
their tartness, for which reason sea-water was mixed with them all 
except the Chian, which was the highest class of wine. 

3 Respected sir) — Yer. 459. " Pater," literally "father;" a title by 
which the young generally addressed aged persons who were strangers 
to them. 

4 All the casks, all the vessels) — Yer. 460. "Dolia omnia, omnes 
serias." The finer kinds of wine were drawn off from the " dolia/' or 
large vessels, into the " amphorae," which, like the " dolia," were made 
of earth, and sometimes of glass. The mouths of the vessels were 
stopped tight by a plug of wood or cork, which was made impervious to 
the atmosphere by being rubbed over with a composition of pitch, clay, 
wax, or gypsum. On the outside, the title of the wine was painted, 
and among the Romans the date of the vintage was denoted by the 
names of the Consuls then in office. When the vessels were of glass, 
small tickets or labels, called " pittacia," were suspended from them, 
stating to a similar effect. The "seriae" were much the same as the 
" dolia," perhaps somewhat smaller; they were both long, bell-mouthed 
vessels of earthenware, formed of the best clay, and lined with pitch 
while hot from the furnace. " Seriae" were also used to contain oil and 
other liquids; and in the Captivi of Plautus the word is applied to 
pans used for the purpose of salting meat. " Relino" signifies the act 
of taking the seal of pitch or wax off the stopper of the wine-vessel. 



Sc. I. THE SELF-TORMENTOE. 161 

Chrem. If it is your determination thus to act, I hold it 
to' be of very great moment that he should not be aware 
that with a full knowledge you grant him this. 

Men. What shall I do ? 

Chrem:. Anything, rather than what you are thinking of ; 
supply him with money through some other person ; suffer 
yourself to be imposed upon by the artifices of his servant : 
although I have smelt out this too, that they are about that, 
and are secretly planning it among them. Syrus is always 
whispering with that servant of yours ; x they impart their 
plans to the young men ; and it were better for you to lose 
a talent this way, than a mina the other. The money is 
not the question now, but this — in what way we can supply 
it to the young man with the least danger. For if he once 
knows the state of your feelings, that you would sooner 
part with your life, and sooner with all your money, than 
allow your son to leave you; whew! what an inlet 2 will you be 
opening for his debauchery! aye, and so much so, that hence- 
forth to live cannot be desirable to you. For we all become 
worse through indulgence. Whatever comes into his head, 
he'll be wishing for j nor will he reflect whether that which 
he desires is right or wrong. You will not be able to endure 
your estate and him going to ruin. You will refuse to supply 
him : he will immediately have recourse to the means by 
which he finds that he has the greatest hold upon you, and 
threaten that he will immediately leave you. 

Men. You seem to speak the truth, and just what is the 
fact. 

Chre^i. I'faith, I have not been sensible of sleep this night 
with my eyes, 3 for thinking of this — how to restore your son 
to you. 

1 With that servant of yours) — Yer. 473. Dromo. 

2 What an inlet) — Yer. 482. " Fenestram ;" literally, " a window." 

3 This night with my eyes) — Yer. 491. Colman has the following 
Note here : " Hedelin obstinately contends from this passage, that 
neither Chremes nor any of his family went to bed the whole night; 
the contrary of which is evident, as Menage observes, from the two next 
Scenes. For why should Syrus take notice of his being up so early, if 
he had never retired to rest] Or would Chremes have reproached 
Clitipho for his behaviour the night before, had the feast never been 
interrupted ? Eugraphius' interpretation of these words is natural and 
obvious, who explains them to signify that the anxiety of Chremes to 
restore Clinia to Menedemus broke his rest." 

M 



1G2 heautontimorumenos; Act III. 

Men. {talcing his hand.) Give me your right hand. I 
request that you will still act in a like manner, Chremes. 

Chrem. I am ready to serve you. 

Men. Do you know what it is I now want you to do ? 

Chrem. Tell me. 

Men. As you have perceived that they are laying a 
plan to deceive me, that they may hasten to complete it. I 
long to give him whatever he wants : I am now longing 
to behold him. 

Chrem. I'll lend my endeavours. This little business is in 
my way. Our neighbours Simus and Crito are disputing 
here about boundaries ; they have chosen me for arbitrator. 
I'll go and tell them that I cannot possibly give them my 
attention to-day as I had stated I would. I'll be here im- 
mediately. {Exit, 

Men. Pray do. {To himself.) Ye Gods, by our trust in 
you ! That the nature of all men should be so constituted, 
that they can see and judge of other men's affairs better 
than their own ! Is it because in our own concerns we 
are biassed either with joy or grief in too great a degree? 
How much wiser now is he for me, than I have been for 
myself! 

'Re-enter Chremes. 

Chrem. I have disengaged myself, that I might lend you 
my services at my leisure. Syrus must be found and 
instructed by me in this business. Some one, I know not 
who, is coming out of my house : do you step hence home, 
that they may not perceive 1 that we are conferring together. 
(Menedemus goes into his house.) 

Scene II. 
Enter Syrus from the house of Chremes. 

Syr. {aloud to himself?) Run to and fro in every direction j 
still, money, you must be found : a trap must be laid for the 
old man. 

1 That they may not perceive) — Yer. 511. Madame Dacier observes 
that Chremes seizes this as a very plausible and necessary pretence to 
engage Menedemus to return home, and not to his labours in the field, 
as he had at first intended. 



Sc. II. THE SELF-TORMEXTOR. 163 

Chrem. (apart, overhearing him.) Was I deceived wi sailing 

that they were planning this ? That servant of Clinia's is 
somewhat dull \ therefore that province has been assigned to 
this one of ours. 

Syr. (in a low voice.) Who's that speaking? (Catches 
sight o/Chremes.) I'm undone ! Did he hear it, I wonder ? 

Chrem. Syrus. 

Syr. Well 

Chrem. What are vou doing here ? 

Syr. AH right. Really, I am quite surprised at yon, 
Chrenies, up so early, after drinking so much yesterday. 

Chrem. Not too much. 

Syr. Not too -much, say you ? Really, you've seen the old 
age of an eagle, 1 as the saying is. 

Chrem. Pooh, pooh ! 

Syr. A pleasant and agreeable woman this Courtesan. 

Chrem. Why, so she seemed to me, in fact. 

Syr. And really of handsome appearance. 

Chrem. Well enough. 

Syr. Not like those of former days, 2 but as times are now, 
very passable : nor do I in the least wonder that Clinia 
doats upon her. But he has a father — a certain covetous, 
miserable, and niggardly person — this neighbour of ours 
(•pointing to the house). Do you know him ? Yet, as if 
he was not abounding in wealth, his son ran away through 
want. Are you aware that it is the fact, as I am saying ? 

Chrem. How should I not be aware? A fellow that 
deserves the mill. 

Syr. Who? 

1 Old age of an eagle) — Yer. 521. This was a proverbial expression, 
signifying a hale and vigorous old age. It has been suggested, too, 
that it alludes to the practice of some old men, who drink more than 
they eat. It was vulgarly said that eagles never die of old age, and 
that when, by reason of their beaks growing inward, they are unable to 
feed upon their prey, they live by sucking the blood. 

- Net like those of former days) — Yer. 524. Syrus. by showing 
himself an admirer of the good old times, a u laudator temporis aeti/' 
is wishful to flutter the vanity of Chremes, as it is a feeling common 
to old age, perhaps by no means an unamiable one, to think former 
times better than the present. Aged people feel grateful to those happy 
hours when their hopes were bright, and everything was viewed from 
the sunny side of life. 

M3 



164 HEAUTONTIMOEUMENOSj Act III. 

Chrem. That servant of the young gentleman, I mean. 

Syr. {aside.) Syrus ! I was sadly afraid for you. 

Chrem. To suffer it to come to this ! 

Syr. What was he to do ? 

Chrem. Do you ask the question? He ought to have 
found some expedient, contrived some stratagem, by means of 
which there might have been something for the young man 
to give to his mistress, and thus have saved this crabbed 
old fellow in spite of himself. 

Syr. You are surely joking. 

Chrem. This ought to have been done by him, Syrus. 

Syr. How now — pray, do you commend servants, who 
deceive their masters? 

Chrem. Upon occasion — I certainly do commend them. 

Syr. Quite right. 

Chrem. Inasmuch as it often is the remedy for great dis- 
turbances. Then would this man's only son have staid at 
home. 

Syr. {aside) Whether he says this in jest or in earnest, 
I don't know ; only, in fact, that he gives me additional zest 
for longing still more to trick him. 

Chrem. And what is he now waiting for, Syrus ? Is it 
until his father drives him away from here a second time, 
when he can no longer support her expenses ? l Has he no 
plot on foot against the old gentleman? 

Syr. He is a stupid fellow. 

Chrem. Then you ought to assist him — for the sake of the 
young man. 

Syr. For my part, I can do so easily, if you command me; 
for I know well in what fashion it is usually done. 

Chrem. So much the better, i' faith. 

Syr. 'Tis not my way to tell an untruth. 

Chrem. Do it then. 

Syr. But hark you! Just take care and remember this, 
in case anything of this sort should perchance happen at a 
future time, such are human affairs! — your son might do 
the same. 

Chrem. The necessity will not arise, I trust. 

Syr. I' faith, and I trust so too : nor do I say so now, 

1 Can no longer support her expenses)— Yer. 544. He refers to 
Menedemus and Bacchis. 



Sc. III. THE SELF-TOIttfENTOR. 165 

because I have suspected him in any way; but in case, none 

the more 1 You see what bis age is; (aside) and truly, 

Chremes, 2 if an occasion does happen, I may be able to 
handle you right handsomely. 

Chrem. As to that, we'll consider what is requisite when 
the occasion does happen. At present do you set about 
this matter. (Goes into Ms housed) 

Syr. (to himself.) Never on any occasion did I hear my 
master talk more to the purpose; nor at any time could I 
believe that I was authorized to play the rogue with greater 
impunity. I wonder who it is coming out of our house? 
(Stands aside.) 

SCESE III. 

Enter Chremes and Clitipho from tlie house of the former. 

Chrem. Pray, what does this mean? What behaviour is 
this, Clitipho? Is this acting as becomes you? 

Cut. What have I done? 

Chrem. Did I not see you just now putting your hand into 
this Courtesan's bosom? 

Syr. (apart.) It's all up with us — I'm utterly undone ! 

Clit. What, I? 

Chrem. With these selfsame eyes I saw it don't deny 

it. Besides, you wrong him unworthily in not keeping your 
hands off: for indeed it is a gross affront to entertain a 
person, your friend, at your house, and to take liberties with 
his mistress. Yesterday, for instance, at wine, how rude 
you were 

Syr. (apart.) 'Tis the truth. 3 

1 But in case, none the more) — Yer. 555. " Sed si quid, ne quid." 
An instance of Aposiopesis, signifying " But it' anything does happen, 
don't you "blame me." 

2 And truly, Chremes) — Yer. 557. Some suppose that this is said in 
apparent candour by Syrus, in order the more readily to throw Chremes 
off his guard. Other Commentators, again, fancy these words to be 
said by Syrus in a low voice, aside, which seems not improbable; it 
being a just retribution on Chremes for his recommendation, however 
well intended : in that case, Chremes probably overhears it, if we may 
judge from his answer. # 

3 'Tis the truth)- Yer. 568. "Factum/' "Done for" is another 
translation which this word will here admit of, 



166 heautontimorumenos; Act III. 

Chrem. How annoying you were! So much so, that for my 
part, as the Gods may prosper me, I dreaded what in the 
end might be the consequence. I understand lovers. They 
resent highly things that you would not imagine. 

Cut. But he has full confidence in me, father, that I would 
not do anything of that kind. 

Chrem. Be it so ; still, at least, you ought to go some- 
where for a little time away from their presence. Passion 
prompts to many a thing; your presence acts as a restraint 
upon doing them. I form a judgment from myself. There's 
not one of my friends this day to whom I would venture, 
Clitipho, to disclose all my secrets. With one, his station 
forbids it; with another, I am ashamed of the action itself, 
lest I may appear a fool or devoid of shame; do you rest 
assured that he does the same. 1 But it is our part to be 
sensible of this; and, when and where it is requisite, to show 
due complaisance. 

Syr. {coming forward and whispering to Clitipho.) What 
is it he is saying? 

Clit. {aside, to Syrus.) I'm utterly undone ! 

Syr. Clitipho, these same injunctions I gave you. You 
have acted the part of a prudent and discreet person. 2 

Clit. Hold your tongue, I beg. 

Syr. Very good. 

Chrem. {approaching them) Syrus, I am ashamed of him. 

Syr. I believe it; and not without reason. Why, he 
vexes myself even. 

Clit. {to Syrus.) Do you persist, then ? 

Syr. F faith, I'm saying the truth, as it appears to me. 

Clit. May I not go near them ? 

Chrem. How now — pray, is there but one way 3 of going 
near them ? 

Syr. {aside) Confusion ! He'll be betraying himself before 
I've got the money. {Aloud) Chremes, will you give attention 
to me, who am but a silly person? 

Chrem. What am I to do ? 

Syr. Bid him go somewhere out of the way. 

1 That he does the same)— Yer. 577. Clinia. 

2 Of a prudent and discreet person)— Ver. 580. This is said ironi- 
cally. 

3 Is there but one way) — Ver. 583. And that an immodest one. 



Sc. III. THE SELF-TORMEXTOR. 167 

Clit. "Where am I to go ? 

Syr. Where you please; leave the place to them; be off 
and take a walk. 

Clit. Take a walk ! where ? 

Syr, Pshaw ! Just as if there was no place to ivalk in. 
Why, then, go this way, that way, where you will. 

Chrem. He says right, I'm of his opinion. 

Clit. May the Gods extirpate you, Syrus, for thrusting 
me away from here. 

Syr. {aside to Clitipho.) Then do you for the future keep 
those hands of your's within bounds. {Exit Clitipho.) 
Really now {to Chremes), what do you think ? What do 
you imagine will become of him next, unless, so far as the 
Gods afford you the means, you watch him, correct and 
admonish him ? 

Chrem. I'll take care of that. 

Syr. But now, master, he must be looked after by you. 

Chrem. It shall be done. 

Syr. If you are wise, — for now he minds me less and less 
every day. 

Chrem. What say you ? What have you done, Syrus, 
about that matter which I was mentioning to you a short 
time since ? Have you any plan that suits you, or not 
yet even ? 

Syr. You mean the design upon Menedemus ? I have; 
I have just hit upon one. 

Chrem. You are a clever fellow ; what is it ? Tell me. 

Syr. I'll tell you; but, as one matter arises out of 
another 

Chrem. Why, what is it, Syrus ? 

Syr. This Courtesan is a very bad woman. 

Chrem. So she seems. 

Syr. Aye, if you did but know. O shocking! just see 
what she is hatching. There was a certain old woman 
here from Corinth, — this Bacchis lent her a thousand silver 
drachmae. 

Chrem. What then ? 

Syr. She is now dead: she has left a daughter, a yoimg 
girl. She has been left with this Bacchis as a pledge for that 
sum. 

Chrem. I understand you. 



168 heautontimorumenos; Act III., Sc. IV. 

Syk. She has brought her hither along with her, her I 
mean who is now with your wife. * 

Chrem. What then ? 

Syr. She is soliciting Clinia at once to advance her this 
money; she says, however, that this girl is to be a security, 
that, at a future time, she will repay the thousand pieces of 
money. 

Chrem. And would she really be a security ? 2 

Syr. Dear me, is it to be doubted ? I think so. 

Chrem. What then do you intend doing ? 

Syr. What, I ? I shall go to Menedemus ; I'll tell him she is 
a captive from Caria, rich, and of noble family; if he redeems 
her, there will be a considerable profit in this transaction. 

Chrem. You are in an error. 

Syr. Why so ? 

Chrem. I'll now answer you for Menedemus — I will not 
purchase her. 

Syr. What is it you say ? Do speak more agreeably to our 
wishes. 

Chrem. But there is no occasion. 

Syr. No occasion ? 

Chrem. Certainly not, i' faith. 

Syr. How so, I wonder ? 

Chrem. You shall soon know. 3 

1 With your wife) — Yer. 604. Madame Dacier remarks, that as Anti- 
piiila is shortly to be acknowledged as the daughter of Chremes, she is 
not therefore in company with the other women at the feast, who are 
Courtesans, but with the wife of Chremes, and consequently free from 
reproach or scandal. 

2 Would she really be a security)— Yer. 608. The question of Chremes 
seems directed to the fact whether the girl is of value sufficient to be 
good security for the thousand drachmas. 

3 You shall soon know) — Yer. 612. Madame Dacier suggests that 
Chremes is prevented by his wife's coming from making a proposal 
to advance the money himself, on the supposition that it will be a 
lucrative speculation. This notion is contradicted by Colman, who adds 
the following note from Eugraphius: " Syrus pretends to have concerted 
this plot against Menedemus, in order to trick him out of some money 
to be given to Clinia's supposed mistress. Chremes, however, does not 
approve of this: yet it serves to carry on the plot; for when Antiphila 
proves afterwards to be the daughter of Chremes, he necessarily becomes 
the debtor of Bacchis, and is obliged to lay down the sum for which he 
imagines his daughter is pledged/ 



Act IV., Sc. I. THE SELF-TORMEXTOR. 169 

Syk. Stop, stop; what is the reason that there is such a 
great noise at our door ? {They retire out of sight) 



ACT THE FOUETH. 

Scene I. 

Enter Sostkata and a Nurse in haste from the house of 
Chremes, and Chremes and Syrus on the other s-ide of 
the stage unperceived. 

Sos. (holding up a ring and examining it) Unless my fancy 
deceives me, surely this is the ring which I suspect it to be, 
the same with which my daughter was exposed. 

Chrem. (apart.) Syrus, what is the meaning of these ex- 
pressions ? 

Sos. Nurse, how is it? Does it not seem to you the 
same? 

Nur. As for me, I said it was the same the very instant 
that you showed it me. 

Sos. But have you now examined it thoroughly, my dear 
nurse ? 

Nur. Thoroughly. 

Sos. Then go in doors at once, and if she has now done 
bathing, bring me word. I'll wait here in the meantime for 
my husband. 

Syr. (apart.) She wants you, see what it is she wants; 
she is in a serious mood, I don't know why ; it is not 
without a cause 1 fear what it may be. 

Chrem. What it may be ? F faith, she'll now surely be 
announcing some important trine, with a great parade. 

Sos. (turning round) Ha ! my husband ! 

Chrem. Ha ! my wife ! 

Sos. I was looking for you. 

Chrem. Tell me what you want. 

Sos. In the first place, this I beg of you, not to believe 
that I have ventured to do anything contrary to your 
commands. 

Chrem. "Would you have me believe ycu in this, although 
so incredible ? Well, I will believe you. 



170 HEAUTONTDIORUMENOS; Act IV. 

Syr. (aside.) This excuse portends I know not what 
offence. 

Sos. Do you remember me being pregnant, and yourself 
declaring to me, most peremptorily, that if I should bring 
forth a girl, you would not have it brought up. 

Chrem. I know what you have done, you have brought 
it up. 

Syr. (aside.) Such is the fact, Tm sure: my young master 
has gained a loss 1 in consequence. 

Sos. Not at all ; but there was here an elderly woman of 
Corinth, of no indifferent character ; to her I gave it to be 
exposed. 

Chre:,i. O Jupiter! that there should be such extreme 
folly in a person's mind. 

Sos. Alas ! what have I done ? 

Chrem. And do you ask the question ? 

Sos. If I have acted wrong, my dear Chremes, I have 
done so in ignorance. 

Chrem. This, indeed, I know for certain, even if you were 
to deny it, that in everything you both speak and act igno- 
rantly and foolishly : how many blunders you disclose in this 
single affair ! For, in the first place, then, if you had been 
disposed to obey my orders, the child ought to have been 
dispatched ; you ought not in words to have feigned her 
death, and in reality to have left hopes of her surviving. 
But that I pass over; compassion, maternal affection, I allow 
it. But how finely you did provide for the future ! What 
was your meaning ? Do reflect. It's clear, beyond a doubt, 
that your daughter was betrayed by you to this old woman, 
either that through you she might make a living by her, or 
that she might be sold in open market as a slave. I sup- 
pose you reasoned thus : " anything is enough, if only her 
life is saved :" what are you to do with those who under- 
stand neither law, nor right and justice ? Be it for better 
or for worse, be it for them or against them, they see nothing 
except just what they please. 

Sos. My dear Chremes, I have done wrong, I own; I am 
convinced. Now this I beg of you; inasmuch as you are 

1 Has gained a loss) — Yer. 628. He alludes to Ciitipho, who, by the 
discovery of his sister, would not come in for such a large share of his 
father's property, and would consequently, as Syrus observes, gain a loss. 



Sc. I. THE SELF-TORMENTOR. 171 

more advanced in years than I, be so much the more ready- 
to forgive ; so that your justice may be some protection for 
my weakness. 

Chrem. I'll readily forgive you doing this, of course ; but, 
Sostrata, my easy temper prompts you to do amiss. But, 
whatever this circumstance is, by reason of which this was 
begun upon, proceed to tell it. 

Sos. As we ivomen are all foolishly and wretchedly super- 
stitious, when I delivered the child to her to be exposed, I 
drew a ring from off my finger, and ordered her to expose 
it, together with the child; that if she should die, she might 
not be without 1 some portion of our possessions. 

Chrem. That was right; thereby you proved the saving of 
yourself and her. 2 

Sos. {holding out the ring.) This is that ring. 

Chrem. Whence did you get it ? 

Sos. From the young woman whom Bacchis brought here 
with her. 

Syr. (aside.) Ha! 

Chrem. What does she say? 

Sos. She gave it me to keep for her, whilst she went to 
bathe. At first I paid no attention to it; but after I looked 
at it, I at once recognized it, and came running to you. 

Chrem. What do you suspect now, or have you discovered, 
relative to her ? 

Sos. I don't know ; unless you enquire of herself whence 
she got it, if that can possibly be discovered. 

1 That she might notbe without) — Ver. 652. Madame Dacier observes 
upon this passage, that the ancients thought themselves guilty of a 
heinous offence if they suffered their children to die without having 
bestowed on them some of their property; it was consequently the 
custom of the women, before exposing children, to attach to them 
some jewel or trinket among their clothes, hoping thereby to avoid 
incurring the guilt above-mentioned, and to ease their consciences. 

2 Saving of yourself and her) — Yer. 653. Madame Dacier says that 
the meaning of this passage is this : Chremes tells his wife that by 
having given this ring, she has done two good acts instead of one — she 
has both cleared her conscience and saved the child; for had there 
been no ring or token exposed with the infant, the finder would not 
have been at the trouble of taking care of it, but might have left it to 
perish, never suspecting it would be enquired after, or himself liberally 
rewarded for having preserved it. 



172 HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS ; Act IV. 

Syr. (aside.) I'm undone! I see more hopes 1 from this 
incident than I desire. If it is so, she certainly must be ours. 

Chrem. Is this woman living to whom you delivered the 
child ? 

Sos. I don't know. 

Chrem. What account did she bring you at the time ? 

Sos. That she had done as I had ordered her. 

Chrem. Tell me what is the woman's name, that she may 
be enquired after. 

Sos. Philtere. 

Syr. (aside.) 'Tis the very same. It's a wonder if she 
isn't found, and I lost. 

Chrem. Sostrata, follow me this way in doors. 

Sos. How much beyond my hopes has this matter turned 
out ! How dreadfully afraid I was, Chremes, that you would 
now be of feelings as unrelenting as formerly you were on 
exposing the child. 

Chrem. Many a time a man cannot be 2 such as he 
would be, if circumstances do not admit of it. Time has 
now so brought it about, that I should be glad of a 
daughter ; formerly 1 wished for nothing less. 

(Chremes and Sostrata go into the house. 

Scene II. 
Syrus alone. 
Syr. Unless my fancy deceives me, 3 retribution 4 will not 

1 / see more hopes) — Ver. 659. Syrus is now alarmed that Antiphila 
should so soon be acknowledged as the daughter of Chremes, lest he 
may lose the opportunity of obtaining the money, and be punished as 
well, in case the imposition is detected, and Bacchis discovered to be 
the mistress of Clitipho and not of Clinia. 

2 A man cannot be) — Ver. 666. This he says by way of palliating 
the cruelty he was guilty of in his orders to have the child put to 
death. 

3 Unless my fancy deceives me) — Ver. 668. " Nisi me animus fallit." 
He comically repeats the very same words with which Sostrata com- 
menced in the last Scene. 

4 Retribution)— Ver. 668. " Infortunium* ' was the name by which 
the slaves commonly denoted a beating. Colman has the following 
remark here : " Madame Dacier, and most of the later critics who have 
implicitly followed her, tell us that in the interval between the third 



Sc. III. THE SELF-TORMENTOR. 173 

be very far off from me ; so much, by this incident are my 
forces now utterly driven into straits ; unless I contrive by 
some means that the old man mayn't come to know that 
this damsel is his son's mistress. For as to entertaining 
any hopes about the money, or supposing I could cajole him, 
it's useless ; I shall be sufficiently triumphant, if I'm allowed 
to escape with my sides covered. 1 I'm vexed that such a 
tempting morsel has been so suddenly snatched away from 
my jaws. What am I to do ? Or what shall I devise ? I 
must begin upon my plan over again. Kothing is so dim- 
cult, but that it may be found out by seeking. What now 
if I set about it after this fashion. {He considers.) That's of 
no use. What, if after this fashion ? I effect just about 
the same. But this I think will do. It cannot. Yes! 
excellent. Bravo ! I've found out the best of all — I' faith, I 
do believe that after all I shall lay hold of this same run- 
away money. 2 

Scene III. 

Enter Clinia at the other side of the stage. 

Clin, (to himself.) Nothing can possibly henceforth befall 

and fourth Acts, Syrus has been present at the interview between 
Chremes and Antiphila within. The only difficulty in this doctrine is 
how to reconcile it to the apparent ignorance of Syrus, which he dis- 
covers at the entrance of Clinia. But this objection, says she, is easily 
answered. Syrus having partly heard Antiphila's story, and finding 
things likely to take an unfavourable turn, retires to consider what is 
best to be done. But surely this is a most unnatural impatience at 
so critical a conjuncture; and, after all, would it not be better to take 
up the matter just where Terence has left it, and to suppose that Syrus 
knew nothing more of the affair than what might be collected from the 
late conversation between Chremes and Sostrata, at which we know he 
was present ] This at once accounts for his apprehensions, which he 
betrayed even during that Scene, as well as for his imperfect knowledge 
of the real state of the case, till apprised of the whole by Clinia." 

1 With my sides covered) — Yer. 673. He most probably alludes to 
the custom of tying up the slaves by their hands, after stripping them 
naked, when of course their "latera" or "sides" would be exposed, and 
come in for a share of the lashes. 

2 Runaway money) — Yer. 678. "Fugitivum argentum." Madame 
Dacier suggests that this is a bad translation of the words of Menander, 
which were " a-oG-p't-^uv top Ipa-krav xP V(J bv" where/' X9 V(J °£ n 
signified both "gold," and the name of a slave. 



174 heautontimorumenos; Act I Y. 

me of such consequence as to cause me uneasiness; so ex- 
treme is this joy that has surprised me. Now then I shall 
give myself up entirely to my father, to be more frugal than 
even he could wish. 

Syk. {apart.) I wasn't mistaken; she has been discovered, 
so far as I understand from these words of his. {Advancing.) 
I am rejoiced that this matter has turned out for you so 
much to your wish. 

Clin. O my dear Syrus, have you heard of it, pray? 

Syk. How shouldn't I, when I was present all the 
while? 

Clin. Did you ever hear of anything falling out so fortu- 
nately for any one? 

Syr. Never. 

Clin. And, so may the Gods prosper me, I do not now 
rejoice so much on my own account as hers, whom I know 
to be deserving of any honor. 

Syr. I believe it: but now, Clinia, come, attend to me 
in my turn. For your friend's business as well, — it must be 
seen to — that it is placed in a state of security, lest the old 
gentleman should now come to know anything about his 
mistress. 

Clin. O Jupiter! 

Syr. Do be quiet. 

Clin. My A.ntiphila will be mine. 

Syr. Do you still interrupt me thus? 

Clin. What can I do? My dear Syrus, I'm transported 
with joy! Do bear with me. 

Syr. F faith, I really do bear with you. 

Clin. We are blest with the life of the Gods. 

Syr. I'm taking pains to no purpose, I doubt. 

Clin. Speak ; I hear you. 

Syr. But still you'll not mind it. 

Clin. I will. 

Syr. This must be seen to, I say, that your friend's busi- 
ness as well is placed in a state of security. For if you now 
go away from us, and leave Bacchis here, our old man will 
immediately come to know that she is Clitipho's mistress ; if 
you take her away with you, it will be concealed just as 
much as it has been hitherto concealed. 

Clin. But still, Syrus, nothing can make more against my 



Sc. III. THE SELF-TORilENTOR. 175 

marriage than this ; for with what face am I to address my 
father about it? You understand what I mean? 

Syr. Why not? 

Clin. What can I say ? What excuse can I make ? 

Syr. Nay, I don't want you to dissemble ; tell him the 
whole case just as it really is. 

Clin. What is it you say? 

Syr. I bid you do this; tell him that you are in love with 
her, and want her for a wife : that this Bacchis is Clitipho's 
mistress. 

Clin. You require a thing that is fair and reasonable, and 
easy to be done. And I suppose, then, you would have me 
request my father to keep it a secret from your old man. 

Syr. On the contrary; to tell him directly the matter just 
as it is. 

Clin. What? Are you quite in your senses or sober? 
Why, you were for ruining him outright. For how could 
he be in a state of security? Tell me that. 

Syr. For my part, I yield the palm to this device. Here I 
do pride myself exultingly, in having in myself such exquisite 
resources, and power of address so great, as to deceive them 
both by telling the truth : so that when your old man tells 
ours that she is his son's mistress, he'll still not believe 
him. 

Clin. But yet, by these means you again cut off all hopes 
of my marriage; for as long as Chr ernes believes that she 
is my mistress, he'll not give me his daughter. Perhaps 
you care little what becomes of me, so long as you provide 
for him. 

Syr. What the plague, do you suppose I want this pre- 
tence to be kept up for an age ? 'Tis but for a single day, 
only till I have secured the money : you be quiet ; lash no 
more. 

Clin. Is that sufficient ? If his father should come to 
know of it, pray, what then ? 

Syr. What if I have recourse to those who say, a What 
now if the sky were to fall ? " x 

1 If the slcy were to fall)— "V "er. 719. He means those who create un- 
necessary difficulties in their imagination. Colman quotes the following 
remark from Patrick : " There is a remarkable passage in Arrian's 
Account of Alexander, lib. iv. ; where he tells us that some ambassadors 



176 HEAUTONTIMOEUMENOS; Act IV. 

Clin. I'm afraid to go about it. 

Syr. You, afraid ! As if it was not in your power to 
clear yourself at any time you like, and discover the ivhole 
matter. 

Clin. Well, well; let Bacchis be brought over to our 
house. 

Syr. Capital ! she is coming out of doors. 



Scene IV. 
Enter Bacchis and Phrygia, from the house of Chremes. 

Bacch. {pretending not to see Clinia and Syrus.) To a 
very fine purpose, 1 upon my faith, have the promises of Syrus 
brought me hither, who agreed to lend me ten minse. If 
now he deceives me, oft as he may entreat me to come, he 
shall come in vain. Or else, when I've promised to come, 
and fixed the time, when he has carried word back for 
certain, and Clitipho is on the stretch of expectation, 
I'll disappoint him and not come. Syrus will make atone- 
ment to me with his back. 

Clin, {apart, to Syrus.) She promises you very fairly. 

from the Celtae, being asked by Alexander what in the world they 
dreaded most, answered, 'That they feared lest the sky should fall 
[upon them].' Alexander, who expected to hear himself named, was 
surprised at an answer which signified that they thought themselves 
beyond the reach of all human power, plainly implying that nothing 
could hurt them, unless he would suppose impossibilities, or a total 
destruction of nature." Aristotle, in his Physics, B. iv., informs us 
that it was the early notion of ignorant nations that the sky was sup- 
ported on the shoulders of Atlas, and that when he let go of it, it would 
fall. 

1 To a very fine purpose) — Yer. 723. u Satis pol proterve," &c. 
C. Laelius was said to have assisted Terence in the composition of his 
Plays, and in confirmation of this, the following story is told by Cor- 
nelius Nepos : " C. Lselius, happening to pass the Matronalia [a Festival 
on the first of March, when the husband, for once in the year, was 
bound to obey the wife] at his villa near Puteoli, was told that dinner 
was waiting, but still neglected the summons. At last, when he made 
his appearance, he excused himself by saying that he had been in a 
particular vein of composition, and quoted certain lines which occur 
in the Heautontimorumenos, namely, those beginning ' Satis pol pro- 
terve me Syri promissa hue induxerunt.' " 



Sc. IV. THE SELF-TORMENTOR. 177 

Syr. (to Clint a.) But do you think she is in jest? She'll 
do it, if I don't take care. 

Bacch. (aside.) They're asleep 1 — I'faith, I'll rouse them. 
(Aloud.) My dear Phrygia, did you hear about the country- 
seat of Charinus, which that man was showing us just now ? 

Phry. I heard of it. 

Bacch. (aloud.) That it was the next to the farm here on 
the right hand side. 2 

Phry. I remember. 

Bacch. (aloud.) Run thither post haste ; the Captain is 
keeping the feast of Bacchus 3 at his house. 

Syr. (apart.) What is she going to be at ? 

Bacch. (aloud) Tell him I am here Yevy much against 
my inclination, and am detained ; but that by some means 
or other I'll give them the slip and come to him. (Phrygia 
moves.) 

Syr. (coming forward) Upon my faith, I'm ruined! 
Bacchis, stay, stay; prithee, where are you sending her? 
Order her to stop. 

Bacch. (to Phrygia.) Be off. 

Syr. Why, the money's ready. 

Bacch. Why, then I'll stay. (Phrygia returns.) 

Syr. And it will be given you presently. 

Bacch. Just when you please ; do I press you ? 

Syr. But do you know what you are to do, pray? 

Bacch. What? 

Syr. You must now go over to the house of Menedemus 
and your equipage must be taken over thither. 

Bacch. What scheme are you upon, you rascal ? 

Syr. What, I ? Coining money to give to you. 

Bacch. Do you think me a proper person for you to play 
upon ? 

1 They're asleep) — Ter. 730. " Dormiunt." This is clearly 
figuratively, though Hedelin interprets it literally. 

2 Farm here on the right hand side) — Ver. 732. Cooke suggests that 
the Poet makes Bacchis call the house of Charinus " villa/' and that of 
Chremes " fundus" (which signifies "a farm-house," or "farm"), for the 
purpose of exalting the one and depreciating the other in the hearing 
of Syrus. 

3 The feast of Bacchus) — Yer. 733. This passage goes far to prove 
that the Dionysia here mentioned as being celebrated, were those kcit 
aypov£ 9 or the "rural Dionysia." 

N 



178 HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS ; Act IV. 

Syr. It's not without a purpose. 

Bacch. (pointing to the house.) Why, have I any business 
then with you here ? 

Syr. O no ; I'm only going to give you what's your own. 

Bacch. Then let's be going. 1 

Syr. Follow this way. (Goes to the door of Menedemus, 
and calls.) Ho there ! Dromo. 

Enter Dromo, yfowz the house. 

Dro. Who is it wants me ? 

Syr. Syrus. 

Dro. What's the matter ? 

Syr. Take over all the attendants of Bacchis to your 
house here immediately. 

Dro. Why so ? 

Syr. Ask no questions. Let them take what they 
brought here with them. The old gentleman will hope 
his expenses are lightened by their departure ; for sure he 
little knows how much loss this trifling gain will bring 
Mm. You, Dromo, if you are wise, know nothing of what 
you do know. 

Dro. You shall own that I'm dumb. (Clinia, Bacchis, 
and Phrygia go into the house of Menedemus, and Dromo 
follows with Bacchis's retinue and baggage.) 

Scene Y. 

Miter Chremes from Ms house. 

Chrem. (to himself.) So may the Deities prosper me, I am 
now concerned for the fate of Menedemus, that so great a 
misfortune should have befallen him. To be maintaining 
that woman with such a retinue ! Although I am well aware 
he'll not be sensible of it for some days to come, his son was 
so greatly missed by him ; but when he sees such a vast 
expense incurred by him every day at home, and no limit to 

1 Lets be going) — Yer. 742. Colman here remarks to the following 
effect : " There is some difficulty in this and the next speech in the 
original, and the Commentators have been puzzled to make sense of 
them. It seems to me that the Poet's intention is no more than this: 
Bacchis expresses some reluctance to act under the direction ol Syrus, but 
is at length prevailed on, finding that he can by those means contrive 
to pay her the money which he has promised her." 



Sc. V. THE SELF-TORMEKTOR. 179 

it, he'll wish that this son would leave him a second time. 
See — here comes Syrus most opportunely. 

Syr. {to himself, as he comes fbnvard.) Why delay to 
accost him ? 

Chrem. Syrus. 

Syr. Well. 

Chrem. How go matters ? 

Syr. I've been wishing for some time for vou to be 
thrown in my way. 

Chrem. You seem, then, to have effected something, I 
know not what, with the old gentleman. 

Syr. As to what we were talking of a short time since ? 
No sooner said than done. 

Chrem. In real earnest ? 

Syr. In real. 

Chrem. Upon my faith, I cannot forbear patting your head 
for it. Come here, Syrus ; I'll do you some good turn for 
this matter, and with pleasure. {Patting his head) 

Syr. But if you knew how cleverly it came into my 
head 

Chrem. Pshaw ! Do you boast because it has turned out 
according to your wishes ? 

Syr. On my word, not I, indeed ; I am telling the truth. 

Chrem. Tell me how it is. 

Syr. Clinia has told Menedemus, that this Bacchis is your 
Clitipho's mistress, and that he has taken her thither with 
him in order that you might not come to know of it. 

Chrem. Very good. 

Syr. Tell me, please, what you think of it. 

Chrem. Extremely good, I declare. 

Syr. Why yes, pretty fair. But listen, what a piece of 
policy still remains. He is then to say that he has seen 
your daughter — that her beauty charmed him as soon as he 
beheld her ; and that he desires her for a wife. 

Chrem. What, her that has just been discovered ? 

Syr. The same ; and, in fact, he'll request that she may 
be asked for. 

Chrem. For what purpose, Syrus ? For I don't altogether 
comprehend it. 

Syr. O dear, you are so duLL 

Chrem. Perhaps so. 

» 2 



180 HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS; Act IY. 

Syr. Money will be given him for the wedding — with which 
golden trinkets and clothes do you understand me ? 

Chrem. To buy them ? 

Syr. Just so. 

Chrem. But I neither give nor betroth my daughter to him. 

Syr. But why ? 

Chrem. Why, do you ask me ? To a fellow 

Syr. Just as you please. I don't mean that in reality you 
should give her to him, but that you should pretend it. 

Chrem. Pretending is not in my way; do you mix up 
these plots of yours, so as not to mix me up in them. Do 
you think that I'll betroth my daughter to a person to 
whom I will not marry her ? 

Syr. I imagined so. 

Chrem. By no means. 

Syr. It might have been cleverly managed ; and I under- 
took this affair for the very reason, that a short time since 
you so urgently requested it. 

Chrem. I believe you. 

Syr. But for my part, Chremes, I take it well and good, 
either way. 

Chrem. But still, I especially wish you to do your best for 
it to be brought about ; but in some other way. 

Syr. It shall be done : some other method must be thought 
of; but as to what I was telling you of, — about the money 
which she owes to Bacchis, — that must now be repaid her. 
And you will not, of course, now be having recourse to this 
method; "What have I to do with it ? Was it lent to me ? 
Did I give any orders ? Had she the power to pawn my 
daughter without my consent?" They quote that saying, 
Chremes, with good reason, "Kigorous law 1 is often rigorous 
injustice." 

Chrem. I will not do so. 

Syr. On the contrary, though others were at liberty, you 
are not at liberty ; all think that you are in good and very 
easy circumstances. 

1 Rigorous law) — Ver. 796. Cicero mentions the same proverb in 
his work De Officiis, B. i., ch. 10, substituting the word "injuria" for 
" malitia." " e Extreme law, extreme injustice/ is now become a stale 
proverb in discourse." The same sentiment is found in the Fragments 
of Menander. 



Sc. VI. THE SELF-TORMENTOR. 181 

Chrem. Nay rather, I'll at once carry it to her myself. 

Syr. Why no ; request your son in preference. 

Chrem. For what reason ? 

Syr. Why, because the suspicion of being in love with 
her has been transferred to him with Menedemus. 

Chrem. What then ? 

Syr. Because it will seem to be more like probability 
when he gives it her ; and at the same time I shall effect 
more easily what I wish. Here he comes too ; go, and bring 
out the money. 

Chrem. I'll bring it. (Goes into his home.) 

Scene VI. 

Enter Clitipho. 

Clit. (to himself.) There is nothing so easy but that it 
becomes difficult when you do it with reluctance. As this 
walk of mine, for instance, though not fatiguing, it has 
reduced me to weariness. And now I dread nothing more 
than that I should be packed off somewhere hence once 
again, that I may not have access to Bacchis. May then all 
the Gods and Goddesses, as many as exist, confound you, 
Syrus, with these stratagems and plots of yours. You are 
always devising something of this kind, by means of which 
to torture me. 

Syr. Will you not away with you — to where you deserve ? 
How nearly had yoiir forwardness proved my ruin ! 

Clit. Upon my faith, I wish it had been so ; just what 
you deserve. 

Syr. Deserve? How so? .Really, I'm glad that I've 
heard this from you before you had the money which I was 
just going to give you. 

Clit. What then would you have me say to you ? You've 
made a fool of me ; brought my mistress hither, whom I'm 
not allowed to touch 

Syr. Well, I'm not angry then. But do you know where 
Bacchis is just now ? 

Clit. At our house. 

Syr. No. 

Clit. Where then ? 



182 HEAUTONTIMORUMENOSj Act IV. 

Syr. At Clinia's. 

Clit. I'm ruined ! 

Syr. Be of good heart ; you shall presently carry to her 
the money that you promised her. 

Clit. You do prate away. — Where from ? 

Syr. From your own father. 

Clit. Perhaps you are joking with me. 

Syr. The thing itself will prove it. 

Clit. Indeed, then, I am a lucky man. Syrus, I do love 
you from my heart. 

Syr. But your father's coming out. Take care not to 
express surprize at anything, for what reason it is done; 
give way at the proper moment ; do what he orders, and say 
but little. 

Scene VII. 
Enter Chremes from the house, with a lag of money. 

Chrem. Where's Clitipho now ? 

Syr. {aside to Clitipho.) Say — here I am. 

Clit. Here am I. 

Chrem. (to Syrus.) Have you told him how it is ? 

Syr. I've told him pretty well everything. 

Chrem. Take this money, and carry it. (Holding out the 
hag.) 

Syr. (aside to Clitipho.) Go — why do you stand still, you 
stone ; why don't you take it ? 

Clit. Very well, give it me. (Receives the lag.) 

Syr. (to Clitipho.) Follow me this way directly. (To 
Chremes.) You in the meanwhile will wait here for us till 
we return; for there's no occasion for us to stay there long. 
(Clitipho and Syrus go into the house of Menedemus.) 

Chrem. (to himself.) My daughter, in fact, has now had 
ten minse from me, which I consider as paid for her board ; 
another ten will follow these for clothes ; and then she 
will require two talents for her portion. How many things, 
loth just and unjust, are sanctioned by custom! 1 Now I'm 

1 Are sanctioned by custom) — Ver. 839. He inveighs, perhaps 
justly, against the tyranny of custom; but in selecting this occasion for 
doing so, he does not manifest any great affection for his newly-found 
daughter. 



Sc. VIII. THE SELF-TOR^EENTOE. 183 

obliged, neglecting my business, to look out for some one, on 
whom to bestow niy property, that has been acquired by my 
labour. 

SCENE VIII. 

Enter Menedemus from his house. 

Men. (to Clinia within.) My son, I now think myself 
the happiest of all men, since I find that you have returned 
to a rational mode of life. 

Chrem. (aside.) How much he is mistaken ! 

Men. Chremes, you are the very person I wanted; pre- 
serve, so far as in you lies, my son, myself, and my family. 

Chrem. Tell me what you would have me do. 

Men. You have this day found a daughter. 

Chre^i. What then ? 

Men. Clinia wishes her to be given him for a wife. 

Chre^i. Prithee, what kind of a person are you ? 

Men. Why? 

Chrem. Have you already forgotten what passed between 
us, concerning a scheme, that by that method some money 
might be got out of you ? 

Men. I remember. 

Chrem. That self-same thing they are now about. 

Men. What do you tell me, Chremes ? Why surely, this 
Courtesan, who is at my house, is Clitipho's mistress. 

Chrem. So they say, and you believe it all ; and they say 
that he is desirous of a wife, in order that, when I have 
betrothed her, you may give him money, with which to 
provide gold trinkets and clothing, and other things that are 
requisite. 

Men. That is it, no doubt ; that money will be given to 
his mistress. 

Chrem. Of course it is to be given. 

Men. Alas! in vain then, unhappy man, have I been 
overjoyed; still however, I had rather anything than be 
deprived of him. What answer now shall I report from 
you, Chremes, so that he may not perceive that I have 
found it out, and take it to heart ? 

Crrem. To heart, indeed I you are too indulgent to him, 
Mensclemus. 



1 84 heautontimorumenos ; Act Y. 

Men. Let me go on ; I have now begun : assist me in this 
throughout, Chremes. 

Chrem. Say then, that you have seen me, and have treated 
about the marriage. 

Men. I'll say so — what then ? 

Chrem. That I will do every thing ; that as a son-in-law 
he meets my approbation ; in fine, too, if you like, tell him 
also that she has been promised him. 

Men. Well, that's what I wanted 

Chrem. That he may the sooner ask of you, and you may 
as soon as possible give him what you wish. 

Men. It is my wish. 

Chrem. Assuredly, before very long, according as I view 
this matter, you'll have enough of him. But, however that 
may be, if you are wise, you'll give to him cautiously, and 
a little at a time. 

Men. I'll do so. 

Chrem. Go in-doors and see how much he requires. I 
shall be at home, if you should want me for anything. 

Men. I certainly do want you ; for I shall let you know 
whatever I do. (They go into their respective houses.) 



ACT THE FIFTH. 

Scene I. 

Enter MENEDEMUs/row his house. 

Men. (to himself.) I am quite aware that I am not so 
overwise, or so very quick-sighted ; but this assistant, 
prompter, and director 1 of mine, Chremes, out-does me in that. 
Any one of those epithets which are applied to a fool is 
suited to myself, such as dolt, post, ass, 2 lump of lead; to 
him not one can apply; his stupidity surpasses them all. 

1 Assistant, prompter, and director) — Yer. 875. The three terms 
here used are borrowed from the stage. "Adjutor" was the person who 
assisted the performers either by voice or gesture; "monitor" was the 
prompter; and "praemonstrator" was the person who in the relearsal 

rained the actor in his part. 

2 Dolt, post, ass) — Yer. 877. There is a similar passage in the 



Sc. I. THE SELF-TORMENTOR. 185 

Enter Chremes, speaking to Sostrata within. 

Chrem. Hold now, do, wife, leave off dinning the Gods 
with thanksgivings that your daughter has been discovered ; 
unless you judge of them by your own disposition, and 
think that they understand nothing, unless the same thing 
has been told them a hundred times. But, in the meantime, 
why does my son linger there so long with Syrus ? 

Men. What persons do you say are lingering ? 

Chrem. Ha! Menedemus, you have come opportunely. Tell 
me, have you told Clinia what I said ? 

Men. Everything. 

Chrem. What did he say ? 

Men. He began to rejoice, just like people do who wish to 
be married. 

Chrem. (laughing) Ha! ha! ha! 

Men. Why are you laughing ? 

Chrem. The sly tricks of my servant, Syrus, just came 
into my mind. 

Men. Did they? 

Chrem. The rogue can even mould the countenances of 
people. 1 

Men. That my son is pretending that he is overjoyed, is it 
that you mean ? 

Chrem. Just so. (Laughing.) 

Men. The very same thing came into my mind. 

Chrem. A crafty knave ! 

Men. Still more would you think such to be the fact, if 
you knew more. 

Chrem. Do you say so ? 

Men. Do you give attention then ? 

Chrem. Just stop — first I want to know this, what money 
you have squandered ; for when you told your son that she 
was promised, of course Dromo would at once throw in a 

Bacchides of Plautus, 1. 1087. "Whoever there are in any place what- 
soever, whoever have been, and whoever shall be in time to come, fools, 
blockheads, idiots, dolts, sots, oafs, lubbers, I singly by far exceed them 
all in folly and absurd ways," 

1 Mould the countenances of people) — Yer. 887. He means that 
Syrus not only lays his plots well, but teaches the performers to put 
on countenances suitable to the several parts they are to act. 



186 HEAUTONTIMORUMENOS j Act V. 

word that golden jewels, clothes, and attendants would be 
needed for the bride, in order that you might give the money. 

Men. No. 

Chrem. How, no ? 

Men. No, I tell you. 

Chrem. Nor yet your son himself? 

Men. Not in the slightest, Chremes. He was only the 
more pressing on this one point, that the match might be 
concluded to-day. 

Chrem. You say what's surprising. What did my servant 
Syrus do ? Didn't even he say anything? 

Men. Nothing at all. 

Chrem. For what reason, I don't know. 

Men. For my part, I wonder at that, when you know other 
things so well. But this same Syrus has moulded your son, 1 
too, to such perfection, that there could not be even the 
slightest suspicion that she is Clinids mistress ! 

Chrem. What do you say ? 

Men. Not to mention, then, their kissing and embracing ; 
that I count nothing. 

Chrem. What more could be done to carry on the cheat ? 

Men. Pshaw! 

Chrem. What do you mean ? 

Men. Only listen. In the inner part of my house there 
is a certain room at the back ; into this a bed was brought, 
and was made up with bed-clothes. 

Chrem. What took place after this ? 

Men. No sooner said than done, thither went Clitipho. 

Chrem. Alone? 

Men. Alone. 

Chrem. I'm alarmed. 
• Men. Bacchis followed directly. 

Chrem. Alone? 

Men. Alone. 

Chrem. I'm undone ! 

Men. When they had gone into the room, they shut the 
door. 

Chrem. Well — did Clinia see all this going on ? 

1 Has moulded your son)— Yer. 898. "Mire finxit." He sarcasti- 
cally uses the same word, " lingo," which Chremes himself employed 
in 1. 887. 



Sc. T. THE SELF-TORMENTOR. 187 

Men. How shouldn't he ? He was with me. 

Chrem. Bacchis is my son's mistress, Menedemus — I'm 
undone. 

Men. Why so ? 

Chrem. I have hardly substance to suffice for ten days. 1 

Men. What ! are you alarmed at it, because he is paying 
attention to his friend ? 

Chrem. His "she-friend" rather. 2 

Men. If he really is paying it. 

Chrem. Is it a matter of doubt to you ? Do you suppose 
that there is any person of so accommodating and tame a spirit 
as to suffer his own mistress, himself looking on, to 

Men. {chuckling and speaking ironically.) Why not ? That 
I may be imposed upon the more easily. 

Chrem. Do you laugh at me ? You have good reason. 
How angry I now am with myself ! How many things gave 
proof, whereby, had I not been a stone, I might have been 
fully sensible of this ? What was it I saw ? Alas ! wretch 
that I am ! But assuredly they shall not escape my ven- 
geance if I live ; for this instant 

Men. Can you not contain yourself ? Have you no respect 
for yourself? Am I not a sufficient example to you ? 

Chrem. For very anger, Menedemus, I am not myself. 

Men. For you to talk in that manner ! Is it not a shame 
for you to be giving advice to others, to show wisdom 
abroad and yet be able to do nothing for yourself ? 

Chrem. What shall I do ? 

Men. That which you said I failed to do : make him sen- 
sible that you are his father ; make him venture to entrust 
everything to you, to seek and to ask of you ; so that he 
may look for no other resources and forsake you. 3 

1 Substance to suffice for ten days) — Ver. 909. "Familia" here means 
" property," as producing sustenance. Colman, however, has translated 
the passage : " Mine is scarce a ten-days' family." 

2 His she-friend rather) — Yer. 911. Menedemus speaks of "amico," 
a male friend, which Chremes plays upon by saying " amicEe," which 
literally meant a she-friend, and was the usual name by which decent 
people called a mistress. 

3 And forsake you) — Yer. 924. Madame Dacier observes here, 
that one of the great beauties of this Scene consists in Chremes 
retorting on Menedemus the very advice given by himself at the 
beginning of the Play. 



188 heautontimorumenos; Act V. 

Chrem. Nay, I had much rather he would go anywhere in 
the world, than by his debaucheries here reduce his father to 
beggary! For if I go on supplying his extravagance, Mene- 
deinus, in that case my circumstances will undoubtedly be 
soon reduced to the level of your rake. 

Men. What evils you will bring upon yourself in this 
affair, if you don't act with caution! You'll show yourself 
severe, and still pardon him at last ; that too with an ill 
grace. 

Chrem. Ah ! you don't know how vexed I am. 

Men. Just as you please. What about that which I desire 
— that she may be married to my son ? Unless there is any 
other step that you would prefer. 

Chrem. On the contrary, both the son-in-law and the 
connexion are to my taste. 

Men. What portion shall I say that you have named for 
your daughter ? Why are you silent ? 

Chrem. Portion? 

Men. I say so. 

Chrem. Alas! 

Men. Chremes, don't be at all afraid to speak, if it is but 
a small one. The portion is no consideration at all with us. 

Chrem. I did think that two talents were sufficient, ac- 
cording to my means. But if you wish me to be saved, and 
my estate and my son, you must say to this effect, that I 
have settled all my property on her as her portion. 

Men. What scheme are you upon ? 

Chrem. Pretend that you wonder at this, and at the same 
time ask him the reason why I do so. 

Men. Why really, I can't conceive the reason for your 
doing so. 

Chrem. Why do I do so ? To check his feelings, which 
are now hurried away by luxury and wantonness, and to 
bring him down so as not to know which way to turn 
himself. 

Men. What is your design ? 

Chrem. Let me alone, and give me leave to have my own 
way in this matter. 

Men. I do give you leave : is this your desire ? 

Chrem. It is so. 

Men. Then be it so. 



Sc. II. THE SELF-TORMENTOR, 189 

Chrem. And now let your son prepare to fetch the bride. 
The other one shall be schooled in such language as befits 
children. But Syrus— — 

Men. What of him ? 

Chrem. What ? If I live, I will have him so handsomely 
dressed, so well combed out, that he shall always remember 
me as long as he lives ; to imagine that I'm to be a laugh- 
ing-stock and a plaything for him ! So may the Gods bless 
me ! he would not have dared to do to a widow-woman the 
things which he has done to me. 1 {They go into their respective 
houses.) 

Scene II. 
Enter Menedemus, with Clitipho and Syrus. 

Clit. Prithee, is it really the fact, Menedemus, that my 
father can, in so short a space of time, have cast off all the 
natural affection of a parent for me? For what crime? 
What so great enormity have I, to my misfortune, com- 
mitted? Young men generally do the same. 

Men. I am aware that this must be much more harsh and 
severe to you, on whom it falls ; but yet I take it no less 
amiss than you. How it is so I know not, nor can I account 
for it, except that from my heart I wish you well. 

Clit. Did not you say that my father was waiting here? 

Enter Gwscessjeb from his house. 
Men. See, here he is. (Menedemus goes into his house) 

1 Which he has done to me) — Yer. 954. Colman has the following 
Note : " The departure of Menedemus here is very abrupt, seeming to 
be in the midst of a conversation ; and his re-entrance with Clitipho, 
already supposed to be apprized of what has passed between the two 
old gentlemen, is equally precipitate. Menage imagines that some 
verses are lost here. Madame Dacier strains hard to defend the Poet, 
and fills up the void of time by her old expedient of making the 
Audience wait to see Chremes walk impatiently to and fro, till a suffi- 
cient time is elapsed for Menedemus to have given Clitipho a summary 
account of the cause of his father's anger. The truth is, that a too 
strict observance of the unity of place will necessarily produce such 
absurdities; and there are several other instances of the like nature 
in Terence." 



190 HEAUTONTIMORUMEXOS ; Act V. 

Chrem. Why are you blaming me, Clitipho ? Whatever 
I have done in this matter, I had a view to you and your 
imprudence. When I saw that you were of a careless dispo- 
sition, and held the pleasures of the moment of the first 
importance, and did not look forward to the future, I took 
measures that you might neither want nor be able to waste 
this which I have. When, through your own conduct, it was 
not allowed me to give it you, to whom I ought before 
all, I had recourse to those who were your nearest relations; 
to them I have made over and entrusted every thing. 1 There 
you'll always find a refuge for your folly; food, clothing, 
and a roof under which to betake yourself. 

Clit. Ah me ! 

Chrem. It is better than that, you being my heir, Bacchis 
should possess this estate of mine. 

Syr. (apart.) I'm ruined irrevocably ! — Of what mischief 
have I, wretch that I am, unthinkingly been the cause ? 

Clit. Would I were dead ! 

Chrem. Prithee, first learn what it is to live. When you 
know that, if life displeases you, then try the other. 

Syr. Master, may I be allowed ? 

Chrem. Say on. 

Syr. But may I safely ? 

Chrem. Say on. 

Syr. What injustice or what madness is this, that that 
in which I have offended, should be to his detriment ? 

Chrem. It's all over. 2 Don't you mix yourself up in it; 
no one accuses you, Syrus, nor need you look out for an 
altar, 3 or for an intercessor for yourself. 

Syr. What is your design ? 

Chrem. I am not at all angry either with you (to 
Syrus), or with you {to Clitipho) ; nor is it fair that you 

1 Entrusted every thing) — Yer. 966. This is an early instance of 
a trusteeship and a guardianship. 

2 It's all over)— Yer. 974. " Ilicet," literally, " you may go away." 
This was the formal word with which funeral ceremonies and trials at 
law were concluded. 

3 Look out for an altar) — Yer. 975. He alludes to the practice of 
slaves taking refuge at altars when they had committed any fault, 
and then suing for pardon through a "precator" or " mediator.". See 
the Mostellaria of Plautus, 1. 1 074, where Tranio takes refuge at the 
altar from the vengeance of his master, Theuropides. 



Sc. II. THE SELF-TORttEOTOR. 191 

should he so with me for what I am doing. (He goes into Ms 
house.) 

Syr. He's gone. I wish I had asked him 

Clit. What, Syrus? 

Syr. Where I am to get my subsistence; he has so 
utterly cast us adrift. You are to have it for the present ; 
at your sister's, I find. 

Clit. Has it then come to this pass, Syrus — that I am to 
be in danger even of starving ? 

Syr. So we only live, there's hope 

Clit. What hope ? 

Syr. That we shall be hungry enough. 

Clit. Do you jest in a matter so serious, and not give me 
any assistance with your advice ? 

Syr. On the contrary, I'm both now thinking of that, and 
have been about it all the time your father was speaking just 
now; and so far as I can perceive 

Clit. What? 

Syr. It will not be wanting long. {He meditates.) 

Clit. What is it, then ? 

Syr. It is this — I think that you are not their son. 

Clit. How's that, Syrus ? Are you quite in your 
senses ? 

Syr. I'll tell you what's come into my mind ; be you the 
judge. While they had you alone, while they had no other 
source of joy more nearly to affect them, they indulged 
you, they lavished upon you. ISTow a daughter has been 
found, a pretence has been found in fact on which to turn 
you adrift. 

Clit. It's very probable. 

Syr. Do you suppose that he is so angry on account of this 
fault? 

Clit. I do not think so. 

Syr. Now consider another thing. All mothers are wont 
to be advocates for their sons when in fault, and to aid them 
against a father's severity ; 'tis not so here. 

Clit. You say true ; what then shall I now do, Syrus ? 

Syr. Question them on this suspicion ; mention the 
matter without reserve ; either, if it is not true, you'll soon 
bring 'them both to compassion, or else you'll soon find out 
whose son you are. 



192 HEAUT0NTIM0RUMEN0S ; Act V. 

Cut. You give good advice ; I'll do so. (He goes into the 
house of Chremes.) 

Syr. {to himself.) Most fortunately did this come into my 
mind. For the less hope the young man entertains, the 
greater the difficulty with which he'll bring his father to 
his own terms. I'm not sure even, that he may not take a 
wife, and then no thanks for Syrus. But what is this ? The 
old man's coming out of doors ; I'll be off. What has so far 
happened, I am surprised at, that he didn't order me to be 
carried off from here : now I'll away to Menedemus here, 
I'll secure him as my intercessor ; I can put no trust in our 
old man. {Goes into the house of Menedemus.) 

Scene III. 
Enter Chremes and Sostrata/^o^ the house. 

Sos. Really, sir, if you don't take care, you'll be causing 
some mischief to your son ; and indeed I do wonder at it, 
my husband, how anything so foolish could ever come into 
your head. 

Chrem. Oh, you persist in being the woman? Did I 
ever wish for any one thing in all my life, Sostrata, but 
that you were my contradicter on that occasion ? And yet 
if I were now to ask you what it is that I have done amiss, 
or why you act thus, you would not know in what point you 
are now so obstinately opposing me in your folly. 

Sos. I, not know ? 

Chrem. Yes, rather, I should have said you do know ; 
inasmuch as either expression amounts to the same thing. 1 

Sos. Alas ! you are unreasonable to expect me to be silent 
in a matter of such importance. 

Chrem. I don't expect it ; talk on then, I shall still do it 
not a bit the less. 

Sos. Will you do it ? 

Chrem. Certainly. 

Sos. Don't you see how much evil you will be causing by 
that course ? — He suspects himself to he a foundling. 

1 Amounts to the same thing) — Ver. 101 0. " Quam quidem redit ad 
integrum eadem oratio;" meaning, " it amounts to one and the same 
thing/' or, " it is ail the same thing," whether you do or whether y 
don't know. 



Sc. IV. THE SELP-TOEMENTOE. 193 

Chrem. Do you say so ? 

Sos. Assuredly it will be so. 

Chrem. Admit it. 

Sos. Hold now — prithee, let that be for our enemies. 
Am I to admit that he is not my son who really is ? 

Chrem. What ! are you afraid that you cannot prove that 
he is yours, whenever you please ? 

Sos. Because my daughter has been found ? 1 

Chre^i. No ; but for a reason why it should be much 
sooner believed — because he is just like you in disposition, 
you will easily prove that he is your child ; for he is exactly 
like you ; why, he has not a single vice left him but you 
have just the same. Then besides, no woman could have 
been the mother of such a son but yourself. But he's coming 
out of doors, and how demure ! When you understand the 
matter, you may form your own conclusions. 

Scexe IY. 

Enter Clitipho from the house o^ Chremes. 

Clit. If there ever was any time, mother, when I caused 
you pleasure, being called your son by your own desire, I 
beseech you to remember it, and now to take compassion on 
me in my distress. A thing I beg and request — do discover 
to me my parents. 

1 Because my daughter has been found) — Ver. 1018. This sentence 
has given much trouble to the Commentators. Colman has the follow- 
ing just remarks upon it: "Madame Dacier, as well as all the rest of 
the Commentators, has stuck at these words. Most of them imagine 
she means to say, that the discovery of Antiphila is a plain proof that 
she is not barren. Madame Dacier supposes that she intimates such a 
proof to be easy, because Clitipho and Antiphila were extremely alike; 
which sense she thinks immediately confirmed by the answer of Chremes. 
I cannot agree with any of them, and think that the whole difficulty of 
the passage here, as in many other places, is entirely of their own 
making. Sostrata could not refer to the reply of Chremes, because she 
could not possibly tell what it would be ; but her own speech is intended 
as an answer to his preceding one, which she takes as a sneer on her 
late wonderful discovery of a daughter; imagining that he means to 
insinuate that she could at any time with equal ease make out the 
proofs of the birth of her son. The elliptical mode of expression so 
usual with Terence, together with the refinements of Commentators, 
seem to have created all the obscurity." 





194 heautontimorumenos; Act Y. 

Sos. I conjure you, my son, not to entertain that notion 
in your mind, that you are another person's child. 

Clit. I am. 

Sos. Wretch that I am ! {Turning to Chkemes.) Was it 
this that you wanted, pray? {To Clitipho.) So may you 
be the survivor of me and of him, you are my son and his ; 
and, henceforth, if you love me, take care that I never hear 
that speech from you again. 

Chrem. But I say, if you fear me, take care how I find 
these propensities existing in you. 

Clit. What propensities ? 

Chrem. If you wish to know, I'll tell you ; being a trifler, 
an idler, a cheat, a glutton, a debauchee, a spendthrift- 
Believe me, and believe that you are our son. 

Clit. This is not the language of a parent. 

Chrem. If you had been born from my head, Clitipho, just 
as they say Minerva was from Jove's, none the more on that 
account would I suffer myself to be disgraced by your 
profligacy. 1 

Sos. May the Gods forbid it. 

Chrem. I don't know as to the Gods ; 2 so far as I shall be 
enabled, I will carefully prevent it. You are seeking that 
which you possess — parents ; that which you are in want of 
you don't seek — in what way to pay obedience to a father, 
and to preserve what he acquired by his industry. That you 

by trickery should bring before my eyes 1 am ashamed to 

mention the unseemly word in her presence {pointing to Sos- 
trata), but you were not in any degree ashamed to act thus. 

Clit. {aside.) Alas! how thoroughly displeased I now am 
with myself! How much ashamed! nor do I know how 
to make a beginning to pacify him. 

1 By your profligacy) — Yer. 1036. It is probably this ebullition of 
Comic anger which is referred to by Horace, in his Art of Poetry : 

" Interdum tamen et vocem Comcedia tollifc, 
Iratusque Chremes tumido delitigat ore :" 
" Yet sometimes Comedy as well raises her voice, and enraged Chremes 
censures in swelling phrase." 

2 / don't know as to the Gods)— Yer. 1037. "Deos nescio." The 
Critic Lambinus, in his letter to Charles the Xinth of France, accuses 
Terence of impiety in this passage. Madame Baeier has, however, 
well observed, that the meaning is not " I care not for the Gods/' but 
" I know not what the Gods will do." 



Sc. T. THE SELF-T0RMEXT0R. 195 

Scene Y. 
Enter Menedkicusj^ww 7jzs 7zo?/sp. 

Men. (#0 himself.) Why really. Chrenies is treating his 
son too harshly and too unkindly. I'm come out. therefore, 
to make peace between them. Most opportunely I see them 
loth. 

Chre^i. Well. Menedenius, wny don't you order my daugh- 
ter to be sent for, and close with the offer 1 of the portion that 
I mentioned? 

Sos. My husband, I entreat you not to do it. 

Clit. Father, I entreat you to forgive me. 

Men". Forgive him, Chrenies ; do let them prevail upon 
you. 

Chrem. Am I knowingly to make my property a present 
to Bacchis ? I'll not do it. 

Mex. Why. we would not suffer it. 

Clit. If you desire me to live, father, do forgive me. 

Sos. Do. my dear Chrenies. 

Mex. Come, Chrenies, pray, don't be so obdurate. 

Chrem. What am I to do here? I see I am not allowed 
to carry this through, as I had intended. 

Mex. You are acting as becomes you. 

Chrem. On this condition, then, I'll do it j if he does that 
which I think it right he should do. 

Clit. Father, I'll do anything ; command me. 

Chrem. You must take a wife. 

Clit. Father 

Chrem. I'll hear nothing. 

Mex. I'll take it upon myself; he shall do so. 

Chrem. I don't hear anvthino- from him as vet. 

Clit. (aside.) I'm undone! 

Sos. Do you hesitate, Cliripho? 

Chrem. Nay, just as he likes. 

Mex. He'll do it all. 

Sos. This course, while vou are makino- a beginning, is 

1 And dose with the offer) — Ver. 1048. "Fir-mas." This ratifi- 
cation or affirmation would be made by Menedemus using the formal 
word " Accipio," " I accept." 

o2 



196 HEAUTONTIMORUMEtfOS. Act V. 3 Sc, V. 

disagreable, and while you are unacquainted with it. When 
you have become acquainted with it, it will become easy. 

Clit. I'll do it, father. 

Sos. My son, upon my honour I'll give you that charming 
girl, whom you may soon become attached to, the daughter 
of onr neighbour Phanocrata. 

Clit. What ! that red-haired girl, with cat's eyes, freckled 
face, 1 and hooked nose ? I cannot, father. 

Chrem. Hey-day! how nice he is! You would fancy 
he had set his mind upon it. 

Sos. I'll name another. 

Clit. Why no — since I must marry, I myself have one 
that I should pretty nearly make choice of. 

Sos. Now, son, I commend you. 

Clit. The daughter of Archonides here. 

Sos. I'm quite agreable. 

Clit. Father, this now remains. 

Chrem. What is it ? 

Clit. I want you to pardon Syrus for what he has done 
for my sake. 

Chrem. Be it so. {To the Audience?) Fare you well, and 
grant us your applause. 

1 Freckled face) — Ver. 1060. Many take "sparso ore" here to mean 
u wide-mouthed." Lemonnier thinks that must be the meaning, as he 
has analyzed the other features of her countenance. There is, however, 
no reason why he should not speak of her complexion; and it seems, 
not improbably, to have the same meaning as the phrase " os lenti- 
ginosum," "a freckled face." 



ADELPHI; THE BEOTHEES. 



DRAMATIS PERSON/E. 



Demea, 1 
Micio, 2 



| Brothers, aged Athenians. 

Heg-io, 3 an aged Athenian, kinsman of Sostrata. 

JEschinus, 4 son of Demea, adopted by Micio. 

Ctesipho, 5 another son of Demea. 

Sanxio, 6 a Procurer. 

Geta/ servant of Sostrata. 

Parmexo, 8 I 

Syrus, 9 I servants of Micio. 

Dromo, 10 J 

Pamphila, 11 a young woman beloved by iEschinus. 

Sostrata, 12 a widow, mother of Pamphila. 

Caxthara/ 3 a Nurse. 

A Music- Girl. 

Scene. — Athens; before the houses of Micro and Sostrata. 



1 From £r]fibc, "the people." 

2 From Mikiwv, a Greek proper name. 

3 From yjyeioQai, "to lead," or "take charge of." 

4 From ataxog, "disgrace." 

5 From KT)]<jic, "a patrimony," and $£>g 9 "light." 
e From aavvoq, "foolish." 

7 One of the nation of the Getse. 

8 See the Dramatis Personse of the Eunuchus. 

9 From Syria, his native country. 

10 See the Dramatis Personee of the Andria. 

11 See the Dramatis Personam of the Eunuchus. 

12 See the Dramatis Persons of the Heautontimorumenos. 

13 From KavOapog, "a cup." 



THE SUBJECT. 



Micio and Demea are two brothers of dissimilar tempers. Demea is 
married, and lives a country life, u bile his brother remains single, 
and resides in Athens. Demea has two sons, the elder of whom, 
JEschinus, has been adopted by Micio. Being allowed by his indulgent 
uncle to gratify his inclinations without restraint, iEschinus has de- 
bauched Pamphila, the daughter of a widow named Sostrata. Having, 
however, promised to marry the young woman, he has been pardoned 
for the offence, and it has been kept strictly secret. Ctesipho, who 
lives in the country with his father under great restraint, on visiting 
the city, falls in love with a certain Music-girl, who belongs to the 
Procurer Sannio. To screen his brother, iEschinus takes the respon- 
sibility of the affair on himself, and succeeds in carrying off the girl 
for him. Demea, upon hearing of this, censures Micio for his ill- 
timed indulgence, the bad effects of which are thus exemplified in 
iEschinus ; and at the same time lauds the steady conduct and fruga- 
lity of Ctesipho, who has been brought up under his own supervision. 
Shortly after this, Sostrata hears the story about the Music-girl, at the 
very time that her daughter Pamphila is in labour. She naturally 
supposes that iEschinus has deserted her daughter for another, and 
hastens to acquaint Hegio, her kinsman, with the fact. Meantime 
Demea learns that Ctesipho has taken part in carrying off the Music- 
girl, whereon Syrus invents a story, and screens Ctesipho for the mo- 
ment. Demea is next informed by Hegio of the conduct of iEschinus 
towards Pamphila. Wishing to find his brother, he is purposely 
sent on a fruitless errand by Syrus, on which he wanders all over 
the city to no purpose. Micio having now been informed by Hegio, 
and knowing that the intentions of iEschinus towards Pamphila are 
not changed, accompanies him to the house of Sostrata, whom he 
consoles by his promise that iEschinus shall marry her daughter. 
Demea then returns from his search, and, rushing into Micio's house, 
finds his son Ctesipho there carousing ; on which he exclaims vehe- 
mently against Micio, who uses his best endeavours to soothe him, and 
finally with success. He now determines to become kind and consi- 
derate for the future. At his request, Pamphila is brought to 
Micio's house, and the nuptials are celebrated. Micio, at the earnest 
request of Demea and iEschinus, marries Sostrata; Hegio has a 
competency allowed him; and Syrus and his wife Phrygia are made 
free. The Play concludes with a serious warning from Demea, who 
advises his relatives not to squander their means in riotous living ; 
but, on the contrary, to bear admonition and to submit to restraint 
in a spirit of moderation and thankfulness. 



THE TITLE OF THE PLAY. 



Performed at the Funeral Games of iEmilius Paulus, 1 
which were celebrated by Q. Fabius Maxhnus and P. Cor- 
nelius Africanus. L. Atilius Pramestinus and Minutius 
Prothinius performed it. Flaccus. the treedman of Clau- 
dius^ composed the music for Sarranian flutes. 2 Taken 
from the Greek of Menander, L. Anicius and ML Corne- 
lius being Consuls. 3 

1 OfMmlius PavJus) This Play (from the Greek 'AcsXpoi, "The 
Brothers") was performed at the Funeral Games of Lucius JEniilius 
Paulus, who was surnamed Macedonicus, from having gained a victory 
over Perseus, King of Macedon. He was so poor at the time of his 
decease, that they were obliged to sell his estate in order to pay his 
widow her dower. The Q. Fabius Maximus and P. Cornelius Africanus 
here mentioned were not, as some have thought, the Curule iEdiles, but 
two sons of JEmiiius Paulus. who had taken the surnames of the families 
into which they had been adopted. 

2 Sarranian flutes) The •'•'Sarranian" or '-'Tynan'' pipes, or flutes, 
are supposed to have been of a quick and mirthful tone : Madame Dacier 
has consequently with much justice suggested that the representation 
being on the occasion of a funeral, the title has not come down to us in 
a complete form, and that it was performed with the Lydian, or grave, 
solemn pipe, alternately with the Tyrian. This opinion is also 
strengthened by the fact that Donatus expressly says that it was per- 
formed to the music of Lydian flutes. 

3 Bdng Consuls) L. Anicius Gallus and M. Cornelius Cethegus were 
Consuls in the year from the Building of the City 592, and B.C. 161. 



ADELPHI; THE BROTHEBS. 



THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINAEIS. 

As Demea has two sons, young men, he gives iEschinus to his brother 
Micio to be adopted by him; but he retains Ctesipho : him, captivated 
with the charms of a Music-girl, and under a harsh and strict father, 
his brother iEschinus screens; the scandal of the affair and the amour 
he takes upon himself; at last, he carries the Music-girl away from 
the Procurer. This same iEschinus has previously debauched a poor 
woman, a citizen of Athens, and has given his word that she shall be 
his wife. Demea upbraids him, and is greatly vexed; afterwards, 
however, when the truth is discovered, iEschinus marries the girl 
who has been debauched; and, his harsh father Demea now softened, 
Ctesipho retains the Music-girl. 



THE PROLOGUE. 

Since the Poet has found that his writings are carped 
at by unfair critics, and that his adversaries represent in a 
bad light the Play that we are about to perform, he shall 
give information about himself; you shall be the judges 
whether this ought to be esteemed to his praise or to his dis- 
credit. The Synapothnescontes 1 is a Comedy of Diphilus; 2 
Plautus made it into a Play called the " Commorientes." In 
the Greek, there is a young man, who, at the early part of the 
Play, carries off a Courtesan from a Procurer; that part 
Plautus has entirely left out. This portion he has adopted in 
the Adelphi, and has transferred it, translated word for word. 
This new Play we are about to perform ; determine then 
whether you think a theft has been committed, or a passage 
has been restored to notice which has been passed over in 

1 Synapothnescontes) — Yer. 6. Signifying " persons dying together." 
The " Commorientes" of Plautus is lost. It has been doubted by some, 
despite these words of Terence, if Plautus ever did write such a Play. 

2 Of Diphilus)— Yer. 6. Diphilus was a Greek Poet, contemporary 
with Menander. 



ActI.,Sc. I. ADELPHIj THE BROTHERS. 201 

neglect. For as to what these malevolent persons say, 
that men of noble rank assist him, and are always writing 
in conjunction with him — that which they deem to be a 
heavy crimination, he takes to be the highest praise ; since 
he pleases those who please you all and the public ; the aid 
of whom in war, in peace, in private business, 1 each one 
has availed himself of, on his own occasion, without any 
haughtiness on their 'part. Now then, do not expect the plot 
of the Play; the old men 2 who come first will disclose it in 
part; a part in the representation they will make known. 
Do you cause your impartial attention to increase the in- 
dustry of the Poet in writing. 



ACT THE FIRST. 

SCEXE I. 

Enter Micio, calling to a servant within. 

Mic. Storax! JEschums has not returned home from the 
entertainment last night, nor any of the servants who went 
to fetch him. 3 (To himself.) Really, they say it with reason, 
if you are absent anywhere, or if you stay abroad any time, 
'twere better for that to happen which your wife says against 
you, and which in her passion she imagines in her mind, 
than the things which fond parents fancy. A wife, if you 
stay long abroad, either imagines that you are in love or are 
beloved, or that you are drinking and indulging your inclina- 
tion, and that you only are taking your pleasure, while she 
herself is miserable. As for myself, in consequence of my 
son not having returned home, what do I imagine ? In what 
ways am I not disturbed? For fear lest he may either have 

1 In war, in peace, in private business) — Yer. 20. According to 
Donatus, by the words " in bello/' Terence is supposed to refer to his 
friend and patron Scipio; by "in otio/' to Furius Publius; and in the 
words "innegotio" to Lselius, who was famed for his wisdom. 

2 The old men) — Ver. 23. This is similar to the words in the Pro- 
logue to the Trinummus of Plautus, 1. 16 : w But expect nothing about 
the plot of this Play; the old men who will come hither will disclose 
the matter to you." 

3 To fetch him) — Yer. 24. "Advorsum ierant." On the duties of 
the " adversitores," see the Notes to Bohn/s Translation of Plautus. 



202 adelphi; Act I. 

taken cold/ or have fallen down somewhere, or have broken 
some limb. Oh dear! that any man should take it into his 
head, or find out what is dearer to him than he is to himself! 
And yet he is not my son, but my brother's. He is quite 
different in disposition. I, from my very youth upwards, 
have lived a comfortable town life, and taken my ease ; and, 
what they esteem a piece of luck, I have never had a wife. 
He, on the contrary to all this, has spent his life in the 
country, and has always lived laboriously and penuriously. 
He married a wife, and has two sons. This one, the elder of 
them, I have adopted. I have brought him up from an 
infant, and considered and loved him as my own. In him I 
centre my delight ; this object alone is dear to me. On the 
other hand, I take all due care that he may hold me 
equally dear. I give — I overlook; I do not judge it neces- 
sary to exert my authority in everything ; in fine, the 
things that youth prompts to, and that others do unknown 
to their fathers, I have used my son not to conceal from 
me. For he, who, as the practice is, will dare to tell a 
lie to or to deceive his father, will still more dare to do 
so to others. I think it better to restrain children through 
a sense of shame and liberal treatment, than through fear. 
On these points my brother does not agree with me, nor 
do they please him. He often comes to me exclaiming, 
"What are you about, Micio? Why do you ruin for us 
this youth ? Why does he intrigue ? Why does he drink ? 
Why do you supply him with the means for these goings 
on ? You indulge him with too much dress; you are 
very inconsiderate." He himself is too strict, beyond what 
is just and reasonable; and he is very much mistaken, in my 
opinion, at all events, who thinks that an authority is more 
firm or more lasting which is established by force, than that 
which is founded on affection. Such is my mode of reason- 

1 Either have taken cold) — Ver. 36. Westerhovius observes that this 
passage seems to be taken from one in the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, 
1. 721, et seq. : u Troth, if I had had them, enough anxiety should I 
have had from my children ; I should have been everlastingly tormented 
in mind : but if perchance one had had a fever, I think I should have 
died. Or if one in liquor had tumbled anywhere from his horse, I 
should have been afraid that he had broken his legs or neck on that 
occasion." It may be remarked that there is a great resemblance between 
the characters of Micio here and Periplecomenus in the Miles Gloriosus. 



Sc. II. THE BROTHERS. 203 

ing ; and thus do I persuade myself. He, who, compelled by 
harsh treatment, does his duty, so long as he thinks it will 
be known, is on his guard: if he hopes that it will be 
concealed, he again returns to his natural bent. He whom 
you have secured ._ by kindness, acts from inclination ; he 
is anxious to return like for like; present and absent, 
he will be the same. This is the duty of a parent, to accus- 
tom a son to do what is right rather of his own choice, 
than through fear of another. In this the father differs from 
the master : he who cannot do this, let him confess that he 
does not know how to govern children. But is not this the 
very man of whom I was speaking ? Surely it is he. I don't 
know why it is I see him out of spirits ; I suppose he'll now 
be scolding as usual. Demea, I am glad to see you well. 1 

Scexe II. 
Enter Demea. 

De:m. Oh, — opportunely met; you are the very man I 
was looking for. 2 

Mic. Why are you out of spirits? 

Dem. Do you ask me, when we have such a son as iEschinus, 3 
why I'm out of spirits? 

Mic. (aside.) Did I not say it would be so? (To Demea.) 
What has he been doing ? 

De;m . What has he been doing ? He, who is ashamed of 
nothing, and fears no one, nor thinks that any law can 
control him. But I pass by what has been previously done : 
what a thing he has just perpetrated! 

Mic. Why, what is it? 

Dem. He has broken open a door, 4 and forced his way 

1 To see you well) — Yer. 81. Cooke remarks, that though there are 
several fine passages in this speech, and good observations on human 
life, yet it is too long a soliloquy. 

2 I teas looting for) — Yer. 81. Donatus observes that the Poet has 
in this place improved upon Menander, in representing Demea as more 
ready to wrangle with his brother than to return his compliments. 

3 Such a son as ^Eschinus) — Yer. 82. The passage pretty clearly 
means by " ubi nobis iEschinus sit," " when I've got such a son as 
iEschinus." Madame Dacier, however, would translate it : " Ask me — 
you, in whose house iEschinus is?" thus accusing him of harbouring 
iEschinus ; a very forced construction, however. 

4 Broken open a door) — Yer. 88. The works of Ovid and Plautus 



204 adelphi; Act I. 

into another person's house, beaten to death the master 
himself, and all the household, and carried off a wench whom 
he had a fancy for. All people are exclaiming that it was 
a most disgraceful proceeding. How many, Micio, told me 
of this as I was coming here? It is in every body's mouth. 
In fine, if an example must be cited, does he not see his 
brother giving his attention to business, and living frugally 
and soberly in the country? No action of his is like this. 
When I say this to him, Micio, I say it to you. You allow 
him to be corrupted. 

Mic. Never is there anything more unreasonable than a 
man who wants experience, who thinks nothing right except 
what he himself has done. 

Dem. What is the meaning of that ? 

Mic. Because, Demea, you misjudge these matters. It is 
no heinous crime, believe me, for a young man to intrigue 
or to drink; it is not; nor yet for him to break open a 
door. If neither I nor you did so, it was poverty that 
did not allow us to do so. Do you now claim that as a merit 
to yourself, which you then did from necessity? That is un- 
fair; for if we had had the means to do so, we should have 
done the same. And, if you were a man, you would now 
suffer that other son of yours to act thus now, while his age 
will excuse it, rather than, when he has got you, after long 
wishing it, out of the way, he should still do so, at a future 
day, and at an age more unsuited. 

Dem. O Jupiter! You, sir, are driving me to distraction. 
Is it not a heinous thing for a young man to do these 
things ? 

Mic. Oh ! do listen to me, and do not everlastingly din 
me upon this subject. You gave me your son to adopt ; he 
became mine ; if he offends in anything, Demea, he offends 
against me : in that case I shall bear the greater part of the 
inconvenience. Does he feast, 1 does he drink, does he smell 

show that it was no uncommon thing for riotous young men to break 
open doors; Ovid even suggests to the lover the expediency of getting 
into the house through the windows. 

1 Does he feast)— Yer. 117. Colman has the following observation 
here : " The mild character of Micio is contrasted by Cicero to that of a 
furious, savage, severe father, as drawn by the famous Comic Poet, 
Csecilius. Both writers are quoted in the Oration for Cselius, in the 



Sc. II. THE BROTHERS. 205 

of perfumes/ — it is at my cost. Does he intrigue, money- 
shall be found by me, so long as it suits me ; when it shall 
be no longer convenient, probably he'll be shut out of doors. 2 
Has he broken open a door — it shall be replaced ■ has he torn 
any one's clothes — they shall be mended. Thanks to the 
Gods, I both have means for doing this, and these things are 
not as yet an annoyance. In fine, either desist, or else find 
some arbitrator between us : I will show that in this matter 
you are the most to blame. 

Dem. Ah me! Learn to be a father from those who are 
really so. 

Mic. You are his father by nature, I loy my anxiety. 

Dem. You, feel any anxiety? 

Mic. Oh clear, — if you persist, I'll leave you. 

Dem. Is it thus you act ? 

Mic. Am I so often to hear about the same thing ? 

Dem. I have some concern for my son. 

Mic. I have some concern for him too; but, Demea, let us 
each be concerned for his own share — you for the one, and I 
for the other. For, to concern yourself about both is almost 
the same thing as to demand him, back again, whom you 
entrusted to me. 

Dem. Alas, Micio! 

Mic. So it seems to me. 

Dem. What am I to say to this ? If it pleases you, hence- 
forth — let him spend, squander, and destroy ; it's nothing to 
me. If / say one word after this 

Mic. Again angry, Demea ? 

Dem. Won't you believe me ? Do I demand him back 
whom I have entrusted ? I am concerned for him ; I am 

not a stranger in blood ; if I do interpose well, well, I 

have done. You desire me to concern myself for one of 

composition of which it is plain that the orator kept his eye pretty 
closely on our Poet. The passages from Csecilius contain all that 
vehemence and severity which, as Horace tells us, was accounted the 
common character of the style of that author." 

1 Smell of perfumes) — Yer. 117. For an account of the "unguenta," 
or perfumes in use among the ancients, see the Notes to Bohn's Trans- 
lation of Plautus. 

2 Will be shut out of doors) — Yer. 119. "No doubt by his mistress, 
when she has drained him of his money, and not by Micio himself, as 
Colman says he was once led to imagine. 



206 adelphi; Act II. 

t7ie??i, — I do concern myself; and I give thanks to the 
Gods, he is just as I would have him ; that fellow of yours 
will find it out at a future day : I don't wish to say anything 
more harsh against him. {Exit, 

Scene III. 

Micio alone. 

Mic. These things are 1 not nothing at all, nor yet all just 
as he says ) still they do give me some uneasiness ; but I 
was unwilling to show him that I took them amiss, for he 
is such a man ; when I would pacify him, 1 steadily oppose 
and resist him; and in spite of it he hardly puts up with it 
like other men ; but if I were to inflame, or even to humour 
his anger, I should certainly be as mad as himself. And 
yet iEschinus has done me some injustice in this affair. 
What courtesan has he not intrigued with ? Or to which of 
them has he not made some present ? At last, he recently 
told me that he wished to take a wife f I suppose he 
was just then tired of them all. I was in hopes that the 
warmth of youth had now subsided ; I was delighted. But 
look now, he is at it again ; however, I am determined to 
know it, whatever it is, and to go meet the fellow, if he is 
at the Forum. {Exit 



ACT THE SECOND. 
Scene I. 

Enter JSschinus and Paemeno ivitJi the Music Girl, 

followed by Sannio and a crowd of people. 

San. I beseech you, fellow citizens, do give aid to a 
miserable and innocent man ; do assist the distressed. 

1 These things are) — Yer. 141. Donatus observes here, that Terence 
seems inclined to favour the part of mild fathers. He represents 
Micio as appalled at his adopted son's irregularities, lest if he 
should appear wholly unmoved, he should seem to be corrupting him, 
rather than to be treating him with only a proper degree of indulgence. 

2 Wished to take a wife) — Yer. 151. Donatus remarks here, that the 
art of Terence in preparing his incidents is wonderful. He contrives 
that even ignorant persons shall open the plot, as in the present instance, 



Sc. L THE BROTHERS. 207 

.ZEsch. (to the Girl.) Be quiet, and now then stand here 
just where you are. Why do you look back ? There's no 
danger ; he shall never touch you while I am here. 

San. I'll liave her, in spite of all. 

.ZEsch. Though he is a villain, he'll not risk, to-day, getting 
a second beating. 

San. Hear me, ^schinus, that you may not say that 
you were in ignorance of my calling ; I am a Procurer. 1 

^Esch. I know it. 

San. And of as high a character as any one ever was. 
When you shall be excusing yourself by-and-by, how that you 
wish this injury had not been done me, I shall not value it 
this (snapping his fingers). Depend upon it, I'll prosecute 
my rights ; and you shall never pay with words for the evil 
that you have done me in deed. I know those ways of yours : 
" I wish it hadn't happened ; I'll take my oath that you did 
not deserve this injustice;" while I myself have been treated 
in a disgraceful manner. 

^Esch. (to Parmeno.) Go first with all despatch and open 
the door. (Parmeno opens the door.) 

San. But you will avail nothing by this. 

-ZEsch. (To the Girl.) Now then, step in. 

San. (coming between.) But I'll not let her. 

.ZEsch. Stej) this way, Parmeno ; you are gone too far that 
way; here (pointing), stand close by him ; there, that's what 
I want. Now then, take care you don't move your eyes 
in any direction from mine, that there may be no delay if I 
give you the sign, to your fist being instantly planted in 
his jaws. 

San. I'd have him then try that. 

iEscH. (to Parmeno.) Now then, observe me. 

Par. (to Sannio.) Let go the woman. (Strikes Mm.) 

San. Oh ! scandalous deed ! 

where we understand hat jEschinus has mentioned to Micio Lis inten- 
tion of taking a wife, though he has not entered into particulars. This 
naturally leads us to the ensuing parts of the Play, without forestalling 
any of the circumstances. 

1 lam a Procurer) — Yer. 161. He says this aloud, and with emphasis, 
relying upon the laws which were enacted at Athens in favour of the 
" lenones," whose occupation brought great profits to the state, from 
their extensive trading in slaves. It was forbidden to maltreat them, 
under pain of being disinherited. 



208 adelphi; Act II. 

-ZEsch. He sliall repeat it, if you don't take care. (Par- 
MENO strikes him again.) 

San. Oh shocking! 

-53sch. {to Parmeno.) I didn't give the sign ; but still 
make your mistakes on that side in preference. Now then, 
go. (Parmeno goes ivith the Music Girl into Micio's house.) 

San. What is the meaning of this? Have you the sway 
here, ^jEschinus? 

^Esch. If I had it, you should be exalted for your deserts. 

San. What business have you with me? 

JEsch. None. 

San. How then, do you know who I am? 

.ZEsch. I don't want to. 

San. Have I touched anything of yours? 

JEsch. If you had touched it, you'd have got a drubbing. 

San. What greater right then have you to take my pro- 
perty, for which I paid nig money ? Answer me that. 

.ZEsch. It were better for you not to be making a disturb- 
ance here before the house ; for if you persist in being imper- 
tinent, you shall be dragged in at once, and there you shall 
be lashed to death with whips. 

San. A free man, with whips? 

-ZEsch. So it shall be. 

San. Oh, you shameless fellow ! Is this the place where 
they say there is equal liberty for all? 

JEsch. If you have now raved enough, Procurer, now 
then listen, if you please. 

San. Why, is it I that have been raving, or you against 
me? 

-ZEsch. Leave alone all that, and come to the point. 

San. What point? Where am I to come to? 

^Esch. Are you willing now that I should say something 
that concerns you? 

San. With all my heart, only so it be something that's fair. 
\ -ZEsch. Yery fine ! a Procurer wishing me not to say 
what's unfair. 

San. I am a Procurer, 1 I confess it — the common bane of 
youth — a perjurer, a public nuisance ; still, no injury has 
befallen you from me. 

1 1 am a Procurer) — Yer. 188. Westerhovius supposes this part to 
be a translation from the works of Diphilus. 



Sc. II. THE BROTHERS. 209 

.ZEsch. Why, faith, that remains to come- 



Sax. Pray, ^schinus, do come back to the point at which 
you set out. 

.ZEsch. You bought her for twenty minse ; and may your 
bargain never thrive! That sum shall be given for her. 

Sax. What if I don't choose to sell her to you? Will 
you compel me? 

^Esch. By no means. 

Sax. I was afraid you would. 

-ZEsch. Neither do I think that a woman can be sold who 
is free; for I claim her by action of freedom. 1 Now consider 
which you choose \ take the money, or prepare yourself for 
the action. Think of it, Procurer, till I return. 2 (He goes 
into the house of Micio.) 

SCEXE II. 

Saxxio, alone. 

I 

Sax. (to himself) supreme Jupiter! I do by n0 means 
wonder that men run mad through ill usage. He has dragged 
me out of my house, beaten me, taken my property away 
against my will, and has given me, unfortunate wretch, more 
than frve hundred blows. In return for all this ill usage he 
demands the girl to be made over to him for just the same 
price at which she was bought. But however, since he has 
so icell deserved of me, be it so: he demands what is his due. 
Very well, I consent then, provided he only gives the money. 
But I suspect this ; when I have said that I will sell her for 
so much, he'll be getting witnesses forthwith that I have 
sold her. 3 As to getting the money, it's all a dream. Call 
again by and by; come back to-morrow. I could bear with 

1 By action of freedom) — Yer. 194. " Asserere liberati causaV' ^as 
to assert the freedom of a person, with a determination to maintain 
it at law. The "assertor'"' laid hands upon the person, declaring 
that he or she was free ; and till the cause was tried, the person 
whose freedom was claimed, remained in the hands of the " assertor." 

2 Till I return) — Yer. 196. Colman has a curious remark here: 
" I do not remember, in the whole circle of modern comedy, a more 
natural picture of the elegant ease and indifference of a fine gentleman, 
than that exhibited in this Scene in the character of /Eschinus. 

3 That I have sold her)— Yer. 204. He means, that if he only names 

P 



210 adelphi; Actll. 

that too, hard as it is, if he would only pay it. But I con- 
sider this to be the fact ; when you take up this trade, you 
must brook and bear in silence the affronts of these young 
fellows. However, no one will pay me; it's in vain for me to 
be reckoning upon that. 

Scene III. 
Enter Sykus, from the house o/'Micio. 

Syr. {speaking to -ZEschinus within.) Say no more; I 
myself will arrange with him; I'll make him glad to take the 
money at once, and say besides that he has been fairly dealt 
with. {Addressing Saknto.) Sannio, how is this, that I hear 
you have been having some dispute or other with my 
master ? 

San. I never saw a dispute on more unequal terms 1 than 
the one that has happened to-day between us ; I, with being 
thumped, he, with beating me, were both of us quite tired. 

Syr. Your own fault. 

San. What could I do ? 

Syr. You ought to have yielded to the young man. 

San. How could I more so, when to-day I have even 
afforded my face to his blows? 

Syr. Well — are you aware of what I tell you ? To slight 
money on some occasions is sometimes the surest gain. 
What ! — were you afraid, you greatest simpleton alive, if you 
had parted with ever so little 2 of your right, and had 
humoured the young man, that he would not repay you 
with interest ? 

a price, iEschinus will suborn witnesses to say that he has agreed to 
sell her, in which case iEschinus will carry her off with impunity, and 
the laws will not allow him to recover her; as it will then be an ordinary 
debt, and he will be put off with all the common excuses used by 
debtors. 

1 On more unequal terms) — Yer. 212. u Certationem comparatam." 
This was a term taken from the combats of gladiators, where it was 
usual to choose as combatants such as seemed most nearly a match for 
each other. 

2 If you had parted with ever so little) — Yer. 217. This passage is pro- 
bably alluded to by Cicero, in his work, De Omciis, B. ii. c. 18 : "For 
it is not only liberal sometimes to give up a little of one's rights, but 
it is also profitable." 



Sc. III. THE BROTHERS. 211 

San. I do not pay ready money for hope. 

Syr. Then you'll never make a fortune. Get out with 
you, Sannio ; you don't know how to take in mankind. 

San. I believe that to be the better plan — but I was never 
so cunning as not, whenever I was able to get it, to prefer 
getting ready money. 

Syr. Come, come, I know your spirit ; as if twenty rainse 
were anything at all to you in comparison to obliging him ; 
besides, they say that you are setting out for Cyprus 

San. {aside) Hah! 

Syr. That you have been buying up many things to take 
thither; and that the vessel is hired. This I know, your 
mind is in suspense ; however, when you return thence, I 
hope you'll settle the matter. 

San. Not a foot do I stir : Heavens ! I'm undone ! 
{Aside.) It was upon this hope they devised their project. 

Syr. {aside.) He is alarmed. I've brought the fellow into 
a fix. 

San. {aside.) Oh, what villany ! — Just look at that ; how he 
has nicked me in the very joint. 1 Several women have been 
pm^chased, and other things as well, for me to take to 
Cyprus. 2 If I don't get there to the fair, my loss will be 
very great. Then if I postpone this husiness, and settle it 
when I come back from there, it will be of no use; the matter 
will be quite forgotten. " Come at last ?" they'll say. " Why 
did you delay it? Where have you been?" So that I had 
better lose it altogether than either stay here so long, or be 
suing for it then. 

Syr. Have you by this reckoned 3 up what you calculate 
will be your profits? 

1 In the very joint) — Yer. 229. * Ut in ipso articulo oppressit." 
Colman translates this, " Nick'd me to a hair." 

2 To take to Cyprus) — Yer. 230. He alludes to a famous slave- 
market held in the Isle of Cyprus, whither merchants carried slaves 
for sale, after buying them up in all parts of Greece. 

3 Have you by this reckoned) — Yer. 236. " Jamne enumerasti id 
quod ad te rediturum putes?" Colman renders this, "Well, have 
you calculated what's your due V referring to the value of the Music- 
girl that has been taken away from him ; and thinks that the following 
conversation between Sannio and Syrus supports that construction. 
Madame Dacier puts another sense on the words, and understands them 
as alluding to Sannio 's calculation of his expected profits at Cyprus. 

p2 



212 adelphi; Act II. 

San. Is this honorable of him ? Ought ^schinus to at- 
tempt this? Ought he to endeavour to take her away from 
me by downright violence ? 

Syr. (aside.) He gives ground. (To Sannio.) I have 
this one proposal to make; see if you fully approve of it. 
Hather than you should run the risk, Sannio, of getting or 
losing the whole, halve it. He will manage to scrape together 
ten minse 1 from some quarter or other. 

San. Ah me! unfortunate wretch, I am now in danger 
of even losing part of the principal. Has he no shame? 
He has loosened all my teeth ; my head, too, is full of bumps 
with his cuffs; and would he defraud me as well? I shall 
go nowhere. 

Syr. Just as you please. Have you anything more to say 
before I go? 

San. Why yes, Syrus, F faith, I have this to request. 
Whatever the matters that are past, rather than go to law, 
let what is my own be returned me ; at least, Syrus, the sum 
she cost me. I know that you have not hitherto made trial 
of my friendship ; you will have no occasion to say that I 
am unmindful or ungrateful. 

S^sr. I'll do the best I can. But I see Ctesipho; he's in 
high spirits about his mistress. 

San. What about what I was asking you? 

Syr. Stay a little. 

Scene IV. 
Enter Ctesipho, at the other side of the stage. 

Ctes. From any man, when you stand in need of it, you are 
glad to receive a service; but of a truth it is doubly accept- 
able, if he does you a kindness who ought to do so. O 
brother, brother, how can I sufficiently commend you ? This 
I am quite sure of; I can never speak of you in such high 
terms but that your deserts will surpass it. For I am of 
opinion that I possess this one thing in especial beyond all 

1 Scrape together ten mince) — Yer. 242. Donatus remarks, that 
Syrus knows very well that JEschinus is ready to pay the whole, but 
offers Sannio half, that he may be glad to take the bare principal, 
and think himself well off into the bargain. 



Sc. V. THE BROTHERS. 213 

others, a brother than whom no individual is more highly 
endowed with the highest qualities. 

Syr. O Ctesipho ! 

Ctes. O Syrus, where is ^schinus ? 

Syr. Why, look — he's at home, waiting for yoiL 

Ctes. (speaking joyously!) Ha! 

Syr. What's the matter ? 

Ctes. What's the matter ? 'Tis through him, Syrus, that 
I am now alive — generous creature ! Has he not deemed 
everything of secondary importance to himself in comparison 
with my happiness ? The reproach, the discredit, my own 
amour and imprudence, he has taken upon himself. There 
can be nothing beyond this ; but what means that noise at 
the door ? 

Syr. Stay, stay; 'tis uEscJiinus himself coming out. 



Scene V. 
Enter iEscHixus, from the house ofMicio. 

^Esch. Where is that villain ? 

Sax. (aside.) He's looking for me. 1 Is he bringing any- 
thing with him? Confusion! I don't see anything. 

^Esch. (to Ctesipho.) Ha ! well met ; you are the very 
man I was looking for. How goes it, Ctesipho ? All is 
safe : away then with your melancholy. 

Ctes. By my troth, I certainly will away with it, when I 
have such a brother as you. O my dear iEschiniis ! O my 
brother ! Alas ! I am unwilling to praise you any more to 
your face, lest you should think I do so rather for flattery 
than through gratitude. 

^Esch. Go to, you simpleton ! as though we didn't by this 
time understand each other, Ctesipho. This grieves me, that 
we knew of it almost too late, and that the matter had come 
to such a pass, that if all mankind had wished they could 
not possibly have assisted you. 

Ctes. I felt ashamed. 

1 He's looking for me) — Yer. 265. Donatus remarks upon the readi- 
ness with which Sannio takes the appellation of " sacrilegus, " as 
adapted to no other person than himself. 



214 ADELPHIj Act II, Sc. V. 

.ZEsch. Pooh! that is folly, not shame; about such a trifling 
matter to be almost flying the country ! l 'Tis shocking to 
be mentioned ; I pray the Gods may forbid it! 

Ctes. I did wrong. 

JEsch. {in a loicer voice.) What says Sannio to us at last? 

Syr. He is pacified at last. 

^ECsch. I'll go to the Forum to pay him off; you, Ctesipho, 
step in-doors to her. 

San. {aside to Syrus.) Syrus, do urge the matter. 

Syr. (to iEscHiNUS.) Let us be off, for he is in haste for 
Cyprus. 2 

San. Not particularly so; although still, I'm stopping here 
doing nothing at all. 

Syr. It shall be paid, don't fear. 

San. But he is to pay it all. 

Syr. He shall pay it all ; only hold your tongue and 
follow us this way. 

San. I'll follow. 

Ctes. {as Syrus is going?) Harkye, harkye, Syrus. 

Syr. {turning back.) Well now, what is it ? 

Ctes. {aside.) Pray do discharge that most abominable 
fellow as soon as possible ; for fear, in case he should become 
more angry, by some means or other this matter should 
reach my father, and then I should be ruined for ever. 

Syr. That shall not happen, be of good heart ; mean- 
while enjoy yourself in-doors with her, and order the couches 3 
to be spread for us, and the other things to be got ready. 
As soon as this business is settled, I shall come home with 
the provisions. 

Ctes. Pray do so. Since this has turned out so well, let us 

1 Flying the country) — Yer. 275. Donatus tells us, that in Menander 
the young man was on the point of killing himself. Terence has 
here softened it into leaving the country. Colman remarks : (i We 
know that the circumstance of carrying off the Music-girl was borrowed 
from Diphilus ; yet it is plain from Donatus that there was also an 
intrigue by Ctesipho in the Play of Menander ; which gives another 
proof of the manner in which Terence used the Greek Comedies." 

2 He is in haste for Cyprus)— Yer. 278. Donatus remarks that this 
is a piece of malice on the part of Syrus, for the purpose of teazing 
Sannio. 

3 Order the couches) — Yer. 285. Those used for the purpose of 
reclining on at the entertainment. 



Act. III.. Sc. II. THE BROTHERS. 21-5 

make a cheerful clav of it. (Ctesipho goes into the liouse of 

Micro : and exeunt iEscmxus and Syrus, followed ly 
Sasnio.) 



ACT THE THIRD. 

Scene I. 

2?jifer Sostrata mm? Caxthara, /h??/i -" : ' if the fc ":er. 

Sos. Pritliee. my ^fe^r nurse, how is it like to end : 
Can. Like to end. do yon ask r I' troth, right well. I 
trust 

Sos. Her pains are just beginning, niy dear. 

Can. You are m a fright now. just as though you had 

never been present on such an ion — never been in labour 

yourself. 

Sos, Unfortunate woman that I am ! I have not a person 
at home : we are quite alone ; Geta too is absent. I have no 
one to go for the midwife, or to fetch ^Esehinus. 

Oak. F faith, he'll certainly be here just now. for he never 
lets a day pass without visiting us. 

S. He is mv sole comfort in my afflictions, 

Can. Things could not have happened, mistress, more for 
the advantage of your daughter than they have, seeing that 
violence was offered her : so far as he is concerned, it is most 
lucky. — such a person, of such disposition and feelings, a 
member of so respectable a family 

Sos. It is indeed as you sav ; I entreat the Gods that he 
may be preserved to us. (They stand apart) on seeing Geta.) 

SCEVE II. 

Enter Geta. on the oihe side if (h \ :: 

Geta (to hi telf.) Now such is our condi that if all 

all bhc ii : uns .". . am 1 tc se 3k .. i ly for 

this m d bhat has befallen myself my mistress, and her 

daughter, they could rind no i Oh wretched me ! so 

many calamities beset us on a ::_. we cannot possibly 



216 adelphi; Act III. 

extricate ourselves. Violence, poverty, oppression, desertion, 
infamy ! What an age is this ! O shocking villany ! O 
accursed race ! O impious man ! 

Sos. Unhappy me ! How is it that I see Geta hurrying 
along thus terrified ? 

Geta {continuing.) Whom neither promises, nor oaths, 
nor compassion could move or soften ; nor yet the fact that 
the delivery was nigh at hand of the unfortunate woman on 
whom he had so shamefully committed violence. 

Sos. {apart to Canthaka.) I don't well understand what 
he is talking about. 

Can. Pray, let us go nearer to him, Sostrata. 

Geta {continuing.) Ah wretched me ! I am scarcely 
master of my senses, .1 am so inflamed with anger. There is 
nothing that I would like better than for all that family to 
be thrown in my way, that I might give vent to all my 
wrath upon them while this wound is still fresh. I could 
be content with any punishment, so I might only wreak 
my vengeance on them. First, I would stop the breath of the 
old fellow himself who gave being to this monster ; then as 
for his prompter, Syrus, out upon him ! how I would tear him 
piece-meal! I would snatch him by the middle up aloft, and 
dash him head downwards upon the earth, so that with his 
brains he would bestrew the road: I would pull out the 
eyes of the young fellow himself, and afterwards hurl him 
headlong over some precipice. The others I would rush upon, 
drive, drag, crush, and trample them under foot. But why 
do I delay at once to acquaint my mistress with this calamity ? 
{Moves as if going.) 

Sos. {to Canthaea.) Let us call him back. Geta 

Geta. Well — leave me alone, 1 whoever you are. 

Sos. 'Tis I, — Sostrata. 

Geta {turning round.) Why, where are you? You are 
the very person I am looking for. I was in quest of you; 
it's very fortunate you have met me. 

Sos. What's the matter? Why are you trembling ? 

1 Leave me alone) — Yer. 321. Quoting from Madame Dacier, Colman 
has this remark here : " Geta's reply is founded on a frolicsome but 
ill-natured custom which prevailed in Greece— to stop the slaves in the 
streets, and designedly keep them in chat, so that they might be 
lashed when they came home for staying out so long." 



Sc. II. THE BR0THEKS. 217 

Geta. Alas! alas! 

Sos. My dear Geta, why in such haste? Do take 
breath. 

Geta. Quite (pauses.) 

Sos. Why, what means this "quite" ? 

Geta. Undone — It's all over with us. 

Sos. Say, then, I intreat you, what is the matter. 

Geta. Now 

Sos. What "now," Geta? 

Geta. iEschinus 

Sos. What about him? 

Geta. Has abandoned our family. 

Sos. Then I am undone ! Why so? 

Geta. He has attached himself to another woman. 

Sos. Woe unto wretched me! 

Geta. And he makes no secret of it ; he himself has carried 
her off openly from a procurer. 

Sos. Are you quite sure of this ? 

Geta. Quite sure; I saw it myself, Sostrata, with these 
same eyes. 

Sos. Ah wretched me ! What is one now to believe, or 
whom believe? Our own ^Eschinus, the very life of us all, 
in whom all our hopes and comforts were centered ! Who 
used to swear he could never live a single day without her! 
Who used to say, that he would place the infant on his 
father's knees, 1 and thus intreat that he might be allowed to 
make her his wife! 

Geta. Dear mistress, forbear weeping, and rather consider 
what must be done for the future in this matter. Shall we 
submit to it, or shall we tell it to any person ? 

Can. Pooh, pooh ! are you in your senses, my good man ? 
Does this seem to you a business to be made known to any 
one? 

Geta. I, indeed, have no wish for it. In the first place, 
then, that his feelings are estranged from us, the thing itself 
declares. Now, if we make this known, he'll deny it, I'm 
quite sure; your reputation and your daughter's character 
will then be in danger. On the other hand, if he were fully to 
confess it, as he is in love with another woman, it would not 

1 On his father' 's knees) — Yer. 333. It was a prevalent custom with the 
Greeks to place the newly born child upon the knee of its grandfather. 



218 adelphi; Act III. 

be to her advantage to be given to him. Therefore, under 
either circumstance, there is need of silence. 

Sos Oh! by no means in the world! I'll not do it. 

Geta. What is it you say? 

Sos. I'll make it known. 

Geta. Ha, my dear Sostrata, take care what you do ! 

Sos. The matter cannot possibly be in a worse position 
than it is at present. In the first place, she has no portion ; 
then, besides, that which was as good as a portion, her honor, 
is lost : she cannot be given in marriage as a virgin. This 
resource is left ; if he should deny it, I have a ring which he 
lost as evidence of the truth. In fine, Geta, as I am fully 
conscious that no blame attaches to me, and that neither 
interest- nor any consideration unworthy of her or of myself 
has had a share in this matter, I will make trial 

Geta. What am I to say to this? I agree, as you speak 
for the best. 

Sos. You be off as fast as possible, and relate all the 
matter just as it has happened to her kinsman Hegio; for he 
was the best friend of our lamented Simulus, and has shown 
especial regard for us. 

Geta (aside.) Aye ; faith, because nobody else takes any 
notice of us. 

Sos. Do you, my dear Canthara, run with all haste, and 
fetch the midwife, so that, when she is wanted, we may not 
have to wait for her. (Sosteata goes into the house, and exit 
Geta and Canthara.) 

Scene III. 
Enter Demea. 

Dem. {to himself) Utterly undone! I hear that Ctesipho 
was with .ZEschinus at the carrying off of this girl. This 
sorrow still remains for unhappy me, should JRischinus be 
able to seduce him, even him, who promises so fair, to a 
course of debauchery. Where am I to inquire for him? I 
doubt he has been carried off to some bad house; that profligate 
has persuaded him, I'm quite sure. But look — I see Byrus 
coming this way, I shall now know from him where he is. 
But ? i' faith, he is one of the gang ; if he perceives that I 



Sc. IV. THE BROTHERS. 219 

am looking for him, the rascal will never tell me, I'll not 
let him know what I want. 

Scene IY. 
Enter Syrus, at the other side of the stage, 

Syr. {to himself.) We just now told the old gentleman the 
whole affair just as it happened; I never did see any one 
more delighted. 

Dem. {apart.) Jupiter! the folly of the man! 

Syr. (continuing) He commended his son. To me, who 
put them upon this project, he gave thanks 

Dem. (apart?} I shall burst asunder, 

Syr. (continuing.) He told down the money instantly, and 
gave me half a mina besides to spend. That was laid out 
quite to my liking. 

Dem. (apart.) Yery fine — if you would wish a thing to be 
nicely managed, entrust it to this fellow. 

Syr. (overhearing him.) Ha, Demea! I didn't see you; 
how goes it ? 

Dem. How should it go ? I cannot enough wonder at your 
mode of living here. 

Syr. Why, really silly enough, and, to speak without dis- 
guise, altogether absurd. (Calls at the door of Micio's house.) 
Dromo, clean the rest of the fish ; let the largest conger-eel 
play a little in the water ; when I come lack it shall be 
boned j 1 not before. 

Dem. Is profligacy like this 

Syr. As for myself, it isn't to my taste, and I often exclaim 
against it. (Calls -at the door.) Stephanio, take care that the 
salt fish is well soaked. 

Dem. Ye Go els, by our trust in you ! is he doing this for 
any purpose of his own, or does he think it creditable to 
ruin his son? Wretei that I am! methinksl already see the 
day when ^schinus will be running away for want, to serve 
somewhere or other as a soldier. 2 

1 It shall be boned) — Yer. 378. The operation of boning conger-eels 
is often mentioned in Plautus, from whom we learn that they were 
best when eaten in that state, and cold. 

2 Serve someichere or other as a soldier) — Yer. 385. See a similar 
passage in the Trinummus of Plautus, 1. 722, whence it appears that it 



220 adelphi; Act III. 

Syr. O Demea! that is wisdom indeed, — not only to look 
at the present moment, but also to look forward to what's 
to come. 

Dem. Well — is this Music-girl still with you ? 

Syr. Why, yes, she's in-doors. 

Dem. How now — is he going to keep her at home ? 

Syr. I believe so ; such is his madness ! 

Dem. Is it possible ? 

Syr. An imprudent lenity in his father, and a vicious in- 
dulgence. 

Dem. Heally, I am ashamed and grieved at my brother. 

Syr. Demea! between you there is a great — I do not say 
it because you are here present — a too great difference. 
You are, every bit of you, nothing but wisdom ; he a mere 
dreamer. Would you indeed have suffered that son of yours 
to act thus? 

Dem. I, suffer him ? Would I not have smelt it out six 
months before he attempted it ? 

Syr. Need I be told by you of your foresight ? 

Dem. I pray he may only continue the same he is at 
present ! 

Syr. Just as each person wishes his son to be, so he turns out. 

Dem. What news of him ? Have you seen him to-day ? 

Syr. What, your son ? {Aside) I'll pack him off into the 
country. {To Demea.) I fancy he's busy at the farm long 
before this. 

Dem. Are you quite sure he is there ? t 

Syr. What ! — when I saw him part of the way myself 

Dem. Yery good. I was afraid he might be loitering 
here. 

Syr. And extremely angry too. 

Dem. W hy so ? 

Syr. He attacked his brother in the Forum with strong 
language about this Music-girl. 

Dem. Do you really say so ? 

Syr. Oh dear, he didn't at all mince the matter ; for just 

was the practice for young men of ruined fortunes to go and offer their 
services as mercenaries to some of the neighbouring potentates. Many 
of the ten thousand who fought for the younger Cyrus at the battle of 
Cunaxa, and were led back under the command of Xenophon, were, 
doubtless, of this class. 



Sc. IV. THE BROTHERS. 221 

as the money was being counted out, the gentleman came 
upon us by chance, and began exclaiming, "Oh ^Eschinus, 
that you should perpetrate these enormities! that you should 
be guilty of actions so disgraceful to our family !" 

Dem. Oh, I shall weep for joy. 

Syr. " By this you are not squandering your money only, 
but your reputation." 

Dem. May he be preserved to me ! I trust he will be like 
his forefathers. {Weeping.) 

Syr. {aside.) Heyday! 

Dem. Syrus, he is full of these maxims. 

Syr. {aside.) Strange, indeed ! He had the means at home 
of learning them. 

Dem. I do everything I can ; I spare no pains ; I train him 
up to it : in fine, I bid him look into the lives of men, as though 
into a mirror, and from others to take an example for him- 
self. Do this, I say 

Syr. Quite right. 

Dem. Avoid that 

Syr. Very shrewd. 

Dem. This is praiseworthy 

Syr. That's the thing. 

Dem. That is considered blameable — tjf 

Syr. Extremely good. 

Dem. 'And then, moreover 

Syr. Upon my honor, I have not the leisure to listen to 
you just at present : I have got some fish just to my taste, 
and must take care they are not spoiled ; for that would be 
as much a crime in me, as for you, Demea, not to observe 
those maxims which you have just been mentioning; and so 
far as I can, I lay down precepts for my fellow-servants on the 
very same plan; "this is too salt, that is quite burnt up, this is 
not washed enough, that is very well done; remember and do 
so another time." I carefully instruct them so far as I can to 
the best of my capacity. In short, Demea, I bid them look 
into their saucepans as though into a mirror, 1 and suggest to 
them what they ought to do. I am sensible these things 
are trifling which we do ; but what is one to do ? Ac- 

1 As though into a mirror) — Yer. 428. He parodies the words of 
Demea in 1. 415, where he speaks of looking into the lives of men as 
into a mirror. 



222 adelphi; Act III. 

cording as the man is, so must you humour him. Do you 
wish anything else? 

Dem, That more wisdom may he granted you. 

Syr. You will be going off into the country, I sup- 
pose? 

Dem. Directly. 

Syr. For what should you do here, where, if you do give 
any good precepts, no one will regard them? (Goes into 
Micio's house.) 



Scene Y. 
Demea, alone. 

Dem. (to 7dmself.) I certainly will be off, as he on whose 
account I came hither has gone into the country. I have 
a care for him: that alone is my own concern, since my 
brother will have it so ; let him look to the other himself. 
But who is it I see yonder at a distance ? Isn't it Hegio of 
our tribe P 1 If I see right, i' faith, it is he. Ah, a man I 
have been friendly with from a child! Good Gods! we cer- 
tainly have a great dearth of citizens of that stamp now-a- 
days, with the old-fashioned virtue and honesty. Not in a 
hurry will any misfortune accrue to the public from him. 
How glad I am to find some remnants of this race even still 
remaining; now I feel some pleasure in living. I'll wait here 
for him, to ask him how he is, and have some conversation 
with him. 

Scene YI. 

Enter Hegio and Geta, conversing, at a distance. 

Heg. Oh immortal Gods ! a disgraceful action, Geta ! 
What is it you tell me ? 
Geta. Such is the fact. 

1 Of our tribe) — Yer. 439. Solon divided the Athenians into ten 
tribes, which he named after ten of the ancient heroes : Erectheis, 
iEgeis, Pandionis, Leontis, Acamantis, (Eneis, Cecrops, Hippothoontis, 
iEantis, and Antiochis. These tribes were each divided into ten 
Demi. 



Sc. VI. THE BROTHERS. 223 

Heg. That so ignoble a deed should come from that 
family ! Oh .ZEschinus, assuredly you haven't taken after 
your father in that ! 

Dem. {apart.) "Why surely, he has heard this about the 
Music-girl; that gives him concern., though a stranger ; this 
father of his thinks nothing of it. Ah me! I wish he were 
somewhere close at hand to overhear this. 

Heg. Unless they do as they ought to do, they shall not 
come off so easily. 

Geta. All our hopes, Hegio, are centered in you; you 
we have for our only friend ; you are our protector, our father. 
The old man, Simirfus, when dying recommended us to you; 
if you forsake us, we are undone. 

Heg. Beware how you mention that; I neither will do it, 
nor do I think that, with due regard to the ties of relation- 
ship, I could. 

Dem, (apart.) I'll accost him. {Approaches Hegio.) Hegio, 
I bid you welcome right heartily. 

Heg. (starting.) Oh ! you are the very man I was looking 
for. Greetings to you, Demea. 

Dem. Why, what's the matter ? 

Heg. Your eldest son .iEscliinus, whom you gave to your 
brother to adopt, has been acting the part of neither an 
honest man nor a gentleman. 

Dem. What has he been doing? 

Heg. You knew my friend and year's-mate, Simulus ? 

Dem. Why not ? 

Heg. He has debauched his daughter, a virgin. 

Dem. Hah! 

Heg. Stay, Demea. You have not yet heard the worst. 

Dem. Is there anything still worse? 

Heg. Worse, by far : for this indeed might in some 
measure have been borne with. The hour of night prompted 
him ; passion, wine, young blood ; 'tis human nature. When 
he was sensible of what he had done, he came voluntarily 
to the girl's mother, weeping, praying, entreating, pledging 
his honor, vowing that he would take her home. 1 The affair 
was pardoned, hushed up, his word taken. The girl from 
that intercourse became pregnant : this is the tenth month. 
He, worthy fellow, has provided himself, if it please the 
1 Would take her home) — Ver. 473. As his wife. 



224 adelphi; Act III. 

Gods, with a Music-girl to live with; the other he has 
cast off. 

Dem. Do you say this for certain? 

Heg. The mother of the young woman is among us/ the 
young woman too; the fact speaks for itself; this Geta, 
besides, according to the common run of servants, not a bad 
one or of idle habits; he supports them; alone, maintains the 
whole family; take him, bind him, 2 examine him upon the 
matter. 

Geta. Aye, faith, put me to the torture, Demea, if such is 
not the fact: besides, he will not deny it. Confront me with 
him. 

Dem. {aside!) I am ashamed; and what to do, or how to 
answer him, I don't know. 

Pam. {crying out ivithin the house of Sostrata.) Ah me! 
I am racked with pains ! Juno Lucina, 3 bring aid, save me, 
I beseech thee ! 

Heg. Hold ; is she in labour, pray ? 

Geta. No cloubt of it, Hegio. 

Heg. Ah! she is now imploring your protection, Demea; 
let her obtain from you spontaneously what the power of 
the laiv compels you to give. I do entreat the Gods that 
what befits you may at once be done. But if your senti- 
ments are otherwise, Demea, I will defend both them and 
him who is dead to the utmost of my power. He was my 
kinsman: 4 we were brought up together from children, we 
were companions in the wars and at home, together we ex- 
perienced the hardships of poverty. I will therefore exert my- 
self, strive, use all methods, in fine lay down my life, rather 
than forsake these women. What answer do you give me ? 

Dem. I'll go find my brother, Hegio : the advice he gives 
me upon this matter I'll follow. 5 

1 Is among us) — Yer. 479. " In medio," "is alive/' or " in the midst 
of us." 

2 Take him, Und him) — Yer. 482. In allusion to the method of 
examining slaves, by binding and torturing them. 

3 Juno Lucina)— Yer. 487. So in the Andria, 1. 473, where Gly- 
cerium is overtaken with the pains of labour, she calls upon Juno Lucina. 

4 He was my kinsman) — Yer. 494. In the Play of Menander, Hegio 
was the brother of Sostrata. 

5 Upon this matter I'll follow) — Yer. 500. "Is, quod mihi de hac re 
dederat consilium, id sequar." Colman has the following Note on 



Sc. VII. THE BROTHERS. 225 

Heg. But, Demea, take you care and reflect upon this: 
the more easy you are in your circumstances, the more 
powerful, wealthy, affluent, and noble you are, so much the 
more ought you with equanimity to observe the dictates of 
justice, if you would have yourselves esteemed as men of 
probity. 

Dem. Go back noiv; 1 everything shall be done that is proper 
to be done. 

Heg. It becomes you to act thus. Geta, shew me in to 
Sostrata. (Follows Geta into Sostrata's house) 

Dem. (to himself.) Not without warning on my part have 
these things happened : I only wish it may end here ; but this 
immoderate indulgence will undoubtedly lead to some great 
misfortune. I'll go find my brother, and vent these feelings 
upon him. (Exit. 

Scene VII. 

Enter Hegio, from Sostrata's house, and speaking to her 

within. 

Heg. Be of good heart, 2 Sostrata, and take care and console 
her as far as you can. I'll go find Micio, if he is at the 
Forum, and acquaint him with the whole circumstances in 
their order; if so it is that he will do his duty by you, let him 
do so ; but if his sentiments are otherwise about this matter, 
let him give me his answer, that I may know at once what 
I am to do. (Exit. 

this passage: " Madame Dacier rejects this line, because it is also to- 
be found in the Phormio. But it is no uncommon thing with our 
author to use the same expression or verse for different places, especially 
on familiar occasions. There is no impropriety in it here, and the 
foregoing hemistich is rather lame without it. The propriety of con- 
sulting Micio, or Demea's present ill-humour with him, are of no con- 
sequence. The old man is surprised at Hegio's story, does not know 
what to do or say, and means to evade giving a positive answer, by 
saying that he would consult his brother." 

1 Go back note) — Ver. 506. "Redite." Demea most probably uses 
this word, because Hegio has come back to him to repeat the last words 
for the sake of greater emphasis. 

2 Be of good heart) — Yer. 512. Colman has the following Note 
here : " Donatus tells us, that in some old copies this whole Scene was 
wanting. Guyetus therefore entirely rejects it. I have not ventured 

Q 



226 adelphi; Act XV. 

ACT THE FOURTH. 

Scene I. 

Enter Ctesipho and $YRUsfrom the house of Micio. 

Ctes. My father gone into the country, say you ? 

Syr. (with a careless air.) Some time since. 

Ctes. Do tell me, I beseech, you. 

Syr. He is at the farm at this very moment, 1 1 warrant — 
hard at some work or other. 

Ctes. I really wish, provided it be done with no prejudice 
to his health, I wish that he may so effectually tire himself, 
that, for the next three days together, he may be unable to 
arise from his bed. 

Syr. So be it, and anything still better than that, 2 if 
possible. 

Ctes. Just so ; for I do most confoundedly wish to pass 
this whole day in merry-making as I have begun it ; and for 
no reason do I detest that farm so heartily as for its being so 
near town. If it were at a greater distance, night would 
overtake him there before he could return hither again. Now, 
when he doesn't find me there, he'll come running back here, 
I'm quite sure ; he'll be asking me where I have been, that 
I have not seen him all this day : what am I to say ? 

Syr. Does nothing suggest itself to your mind ? 

Ctes. Nothing whatever. 

Syr. So much the worse 3 — have you no client, friend, or 
guest ? 

to take that liberty; but must confess that it appears to me, if not suppo- 
sititious, at least cold and superfluous, and the substance of it had better 
been supposed to have passed between Hegio and Sostrata within." 

1 At this very moment)— Yer. 519. It is very doubtful whether the 
words " cum maxime" mean to signify exactly " at this moment," or 
are intended to signify the intensity with which Demea is labouring. 

2 Anything still better than that) — Yer. 522. Lemaire suggests that by 
these words Syrus intends to imply that he should not care if Demea 
were never to arise from his bed, but were to die there. Ctesipho> 
only taking him heartily to second his own wishes for the old man's 
absence, answers affirmatively " ita," " by all means," ' ■ exactly so." 

3 So much the worse) — Yer. 529. Schmieder observes that * tanto 



Sc. I. THE BH0THEH3. 22! 

Ctes. I Have ; what then ? 

Syr. You have been engaged with them. 

Ctes. When I have not been engaged ? That can never dcu 

Syr. It may. 

Ctes. During the daytime ; but if I pass the night here, 
what excuse can I make, Syrus ? 

Syr. Dear me, how much I do wish it was the custom for 
one to be engaged 'with friends at night as well ! Bat you be 
easy ; I knovv' his humour perfectly well. "When he raves 
the most violently, I can make him as gentle as a lamb. 

Ctes. In what way ? 

Syr. He loves to hear you praised : I make a god of yon 
to him, and recount your virtues. 

Ctes. What, mine ? 

Syr. Yours ; immediately the tears fall from him as from 
a child, for very joy. (Starting.) Hah! take care 

Ctes. Whv, what's the matter ? 

Syr. The wolf in the fable 1 — 

Ctes. What ! my father ? 

Syr. His own self. 

Ctes. What shall vv~e do, Syrus ? 

Syr. You only be off in-doors, I'll see to that. 

nequior' 1 might have two meanings, — "so much the worse for tis" or, 
as the spectators might understand it, u so much the more worthless 
you.'' 

1 The wolf in the fable)— Yer. 53S. This was a proverbial expres- 
sion, tantamount to our saying, " Talk of the devil, he's sure to appear,** 
Servius, in his Commentary on the Ninth Eclogue of Virgil, says tha* 
the spying arose from the common belief that the person whom & 
wolf sets his eyes upon is deprived of his voice, and thence came t» 
be applied to a person who, coming upon others in the act of talking 
about him, necessarily put a stop to their conversation. Cooke says, ia 
reference to this passage, " This certainly alludes to a Fable of Msop\ 
of the Wolf, the Fox, and the Ape : which is translated by Phasdms* 
and is the tenth of his First Book." It is much more certain thsfc 
Cooke is mistaken here, and that the fable of the arbitration of ik§ 
Ape between the "Wolf and the Fox has nothing to do with this passage. 
If it alludes to any fable (which from the expression itself is not at all 
unlikely), it is more likely to be that where theXurse threatens that ttk§ 
wolf shall take the naughty Child, on which he makes his appearance* 
but is disappointed in his expectations, or else that of the Shepherd- 
boy and the Wolf. See the Stichus of Plautus, 1. 57, where the sa^s 
expression occurs. 

q2 



228 adelphi; Act IV. 

Ctes. If lie makes any enquiries, you have seen me no- 
where ; do yon hear ? 

Syr. Can yon not he quiet? {They retreat to the door of 
Micio's house, and Ctesipho stands in the doorway.) 



Scene II. 
Enter Demea, on the other side of the stage. 

Dem. (to himself) I certainly am an unfortunate man. 
In the first place, I can find my brother nowhere ; and then, 
in the next place, while looking for him, I met a day- 
labourer 1 from the farm; he says that my son is not in the 
country, and what to do I know not 

Ctes (apart) Syrus! 

Syr. (apart.) What's the matter ? 

Ctes. (apart) Is he looking for me ? 

Syr. (apart.) Yes. 

Ctes. (apart.) Undone! 

Syr. (apart.) Nay, do be of good heart. 

Dem. (to himself) Plague on it ! what ill luck is this ? I 
-cannot really account for it, unless I suppose myself only 
/born for the purpose of enduring misery. I am the first to 
..feel our misfortunes; the first to know of them all; then the 
first to carry the news ; I am the only one, if anything does 
■go wrong, to take it to heart. 

Syr. {apart) I'm amused at him ; he says that he is the 
first to know of everything, while he is the only one ignorant 
.of everything. 

Dem. {to himself) I've now come back; and I'll go see 
whether perchance my brother has yet returned. 

Ctes. (apart) Syrus, pray do take care that he doesn't 
-suddenly rush in upon us here, 

Syr. (apart) Now will you hold your tongue? I'll take 
care. 

Ctes. (apart) Never this day will I depend on your 
management for that, upon my faith; for I'll shut myself up 

7 Met a day-labourer) — Ver. 542. Donatus remarks that the Poet 
artfully contrives to detain Demea in town, his presence being necessary 
in the latter part of the Play. 



Sc. II. THE BROTHERS. 22% 

with her in some cupboard 1 — that's the safest. (Goes into 
the house) 

Syr. (apart?) Do so, still I'll get rid of him. 

Dem. (seeing Syeus.) But see ! there's that rascal, Syrus. 

Syr. (aloud, pretending not to see Demea.) Really, upon my 
faith, no person can stay here, if this is to be the case ! For 
my part, I should like to know how many masters I have — 
what a cursed condition this is ! 

Dem. What's he whining about ? What does he mean ? 
How say you, good sir, is my brother at home ? 

Syr. What the plague do you talk to me about, "good 
sir" ? I'm quite distracted ! 

Dem. What's the matter with you ? 

Syr. Do you ask the question ? Ctesipho has been beating 
me, poor wretch, and that Music-girl, almost to death. 

Dem. Ha I what is it you tell me ? 

Syr. Ay, see how he has cut my Up. (Pretends ta 
point to it.) 

Dem. For what reason ? 

Syr. He says that she was bought by my advice. 

Dem. Did not you tell me, a short time since, that you 
had seen him on his way into the country ? *r 

Syr. I did; but he afterwards came back, raving like a mad- 
man; he spared nobody — ought he not to have been ashamed 
to beat an old man ? Him whom, only the other day, I used 
to carry about in my arms when thus high ? (Showing.) 

Dem. I commend him ; Ctesipho, you take after your 
father. Well, I do pronounce you a man. 

Syr. Commend him ? Assuredly he will keep his hands 
to himself in future, if he's wise. 

Dem. 'Ticas done with spirit. 

Syr. Yery much so, to be beating a poor woman, and me, 
a slave, who didn't dare strike him in return; heyday I very 
spirited indeed! 

Dem. He could not have done better : he thought the 
same as I did, that you were the principal in this affair. 
But is my brother within ? 

1 With her in some cupboard) — Ver. 553. Donatus observes that the 
young man was silly in this, for if discovered to be there he would be 
sure to be caught. His object, however, for going there would be that 
he might not be discovered. 



230 adelphi; Act IV. 

Syr. He is not. 

Dem. I'm thinking where to look for him. 

Syr. I know where he is — but I shall not tell you at present. 

Dem. Ha! what's that you say? 

Syr. I do say so. 

Dem. Then I'll break your head for you this instant. 

Syr. I can't tell the person's name lie's gone to, but I know 
the place where he lives. 

Dem. Tell me the place then. 

Syr. Do you know the portico clown this way, just by 
the shambles? {Pointing in the direction.) 

Dem. How should I but know it ? 

Syr. Go straight along, right up that street ; when you 
come there, there is a descent right opposite that goes 
downwards, go straight down that; afterwards, on this side 
{extending one hand), there is a chapel : close by it is a 
narrow lane, where there's also a great wild fig-tree. 

Dem. I know it. 

Syr. Go through that 

Dem. But that lane is not a thoroughfare. 

Syr. I'faith, that's true ; dear, clear, would you take me to 
"be in my senses P 1 I made a mistake. Return to the portico; 
indeed that will be a much nearer way, and there is less 
going round about : you know the house of Cratinus, the 
rich man ? 

Dem. I know it. 

Syr. When you have passed that, keep straight along that 
street on the left hand; 2 when you come to the Temple of 
Diana, turn to the right ; before you come to the city gate, 3 
just by that pond, there is a baker's shop, and opposite to it 
a joiner's; there he is. 

1 Take me to be in my senses) — Yer. 580. " Censen hominem me 
ftsse?" literally, "Do you take me to be a human being'?" meaning, 
'Do you take me to be a person in my common senses V 1 

2 Street on the left hand) — Ver. 583. Theobald, in his edition of 
Shakspeare, observes that the direction given by Lancelot in the Mer- 
chant of Venice seems to be copied from that given here by Syrus : 
u Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, but at the next turn- 
ing of all on your left ; marry, at the very next turning of no hand, 
but turn down indirectly to the Jew's house." 

3 Come to the city gate) — Yer. 584. From this we discover that Demea 
& being sent to the very extremity of the town, as Donatus informs 



Sc. III. THE BROTHERS. 231 

De:»i. What is he doing there ? 

Syr. He has given some couches to be made, with oaken 
legs, for use in the open air. 1 

De^i. For you to carouse upon! Very fine ! But vohji do I 

delay going to him r (Exit. 



Scexe III. 

Syrus alone. 

Syr. Go 7 by all means. I'll work you to-day. you skeleton/ 
as you deserve. ^Eschinus loiters intolerably ; the breakfast's 
spoiling; and as for Ctesipho, he's head and ears in love. 3 
I shall now thmk of myself, for I'll be off at once, and pick out 
the very nicest bit. and, leisurely sipping my cups/ I'll lengthen 
out the day. (Goes into the lwv.se.) 

us that ponds of water were always close to the gates of towns, for the 
purpose of watering the beasts of burden, and of having a supply at 
hand in case the enemy should set tire to the city gates. 

1 The open air) — Yer. 586. Donatus remarks that it was usual 
for the Greeks to sit and drink in the sun ; and that Syrus being 
suddenly asked this question shows his presence of mind by giving this 
circumstantial answer, that he may the better impose upon Demea. 
The couches used on such occasions may be presumed to have required 
stout legs, and to be made of hard wood, such as oak, to prevent them from 
splitting. Two instances of couches being used for carousing in the 
open air will be found in the last Scenes of the Asinaria and Stichus of 
Plautus. 

- Fan skeleton) — Yer. 5SS. w Silicernium." This was said to be 
the name of a funeral entertainment or dish of meats ottered up to the 
*■ umbrae" or '-'manes;'' in silence. The word is also said to have been 
applied to an old man from his stooping postures, "siiices cernit," "he 
looks at the stones." 

3 Head and ears in love) — Yer. 590. * Totus," literally, " quite" or 
<l altogether." 

4 Sipping my cups) — Ver. 592. As to the "cyathi" and cups of the 
ancients, see the last Scene of the Stichus of Plautus, which is a perfect 
specimen of a carousal among the lower classes in ancient times. See 
also the last Scene of the Asinaria. The slaves generally appear to have 
taken part in the entertainments with their young masters. 



232 adelphi; Act IV. 

Scene IV. 
Enter Micio and Hegio. 

Mic. I can see no reason here, Hegio, that I should be so 
greatly commended. I do my duty; the wrong that has 
originated with us I redress. Unless, perhaps, you thought 
me one of that class of men who think that an injury is pur- 
posely done them if you expostulate about anything they 
have done ; and yet are themselves the first to accuse. 
Because I have not acted thus, do you return me thanks ? 

Heg. Oh, far from it; I never led myself to believe you to 
be otherwise than you are ; but I beg, Micio, that you will go 
with me to the mother of the young woman, and repeat to her 
the same ; what you have told me, do you yourself tell the 
woman, that this suspicion of JEschinus 's fidelity was incurred 
on his brother's account, and that this Music-girl was for him. 

Mic. If you think I ought, or if there is a necessity for 
doing so, let us go. 

Heg. You act with kindness; for you'll then both have 
relieved her mind who is now languishing in sorrow and afflic- 
tion, and have discharged your duty. But if you think 
otherwise, I will tell her myself what you have been saying 
to me. 

Mic. Nay, I'll go as well. 

Heg. You act with kindness ; all who are in distressed 
circumstances are suspicious, 1 to I know not what degree; 
they take everything too readily as an affront ; they fancy 
themselves trifled with on account of their helpless condition; 
therefore it will be more satisfactory for you to justify him to 
them yoursel£ {They go into the house of Sostrata.) 

Scene V. 

Enter ^Eschinus. 

I am quite distracted in mind! for this misfortune so 
unexpectedly to befall me, that I neither know what to do 
with myself, or how to act ! My limbs are enfeebled through 

1 Are suspicious) — Yer. 606. These lines are supposed to be founded 
on some verses of Menander which are still extant. 



Sc. VI. THE BROTHERS. 233 

fear, niy faculties bewildered with apprehension; no counsel 
is able to find a place within mv breast. Alas ! how to 
extricate myself from this perplexity I know not ; so strong 
a suspicion has taken possession of them about me; not with- 
out some reason too : Sostrata believes that I have purchased 
this Music-giid for myself : the old woman informed me of 
that. For by accident, when she was sent for the midwife. I 
saw her. and at once went up to her. "How is Famphila? ,? 
I enquired; "is her delivery at hand? Is it for that she is 
sending for the midwife r n " Away, away, ^schinus," cries 
she; " you have deceived us long enough ; already have your 
promises disappointed us sufficiently." " Ha !" said I; "pray 
what is the meaning of this r " " Farewell," she cries; "keep 
to her who is your choice." I instantly guessed what it was 
they suspected, but still I checked myself, that I might not 
be telling that gossip anything about my brother, whereby it 
might be divulged. Now what am I to do r Shall I say 
she is for my brother, a thing that ought by no means to be 
repeated anywhere ? However, let that pass. It is possible 
it might go no further, I am afraid they would not believe 
it, so many probabilities concur against it: 'twas I myselt 
carried her off; 'twas I, my own self, that paid the money for 
her; 'twas my own house she was carried to. This I confess 
has been entirely my own fault. Ought I not to have 
disclosed this affair, just as it happened, to my father ? I 
might have obtained his consent to marry her. I have been 
too negligent hitherto ; henceforth, then, arouse yourself, 
iEsehinus. This then is the first things ; to go to them and 
clear myself I'll approach the door. {Advances to the door 
of Sostrata s liouse.) Confusion ! I always tremble most 
dreadrully when I go to knock at that door. (Knocking and, 
calling to them within) Ho there, he there! it is JEschinus; 
open the door immediately, some one. (The door opens.} 
Some person, I know not who, is coming out ; I'll step aside- 
here. (He stands apart.) 

Scene VI 

Enter Micio from the liouse of Sostrata. 
Mic. (speaking at the door to Sostrata.) Do as I told 



234 adelphi; Act IV. 

you, Sostrata ; I'll go find ^schinus, that he may know 
how these matters have been settled. {Looking round.) But 
who was it knocking at the door ? 

^Esch. (apart.) Heavens, it is my father! — I am undone! 

Mic. iEschinus! 

iEscH. (aside.) "What can be his business here ? 

Mic. Was it you knocking at this door ? (Aside.) He is 
silent. Why shouldn't I rally him a little ? It would be as 
well, as he was never willing to trust me with this secret 
(To .ZEschinus.) Don't you answer me ? 

^Ssch. (confusedly.) It wasn't I knocked at that door, that 
I know of. 

Mic. Just so ; for I wondered what business you could 
have here. (Apart.) He blushes ; all's well. 

-ZEsch. Pray tell me, father, what business have you 
there ? 

Mic. Why, none of my own; hut a certain friend of mine 
just now brought me hither from the Forum to give him 
some assistance. 

^sch. Why? 

Mic. I'll tell you. There are some women living here; 
in impoverished circumstances, as I suppose you don't know 
them ; and, in fact, I'm quite sure, for it is not long since 
they removed to this place. 

JEsch. Well, what next ? 

Mic. There is a girl living with her mother. 

.ZEsch. Go on.. 

Mic. This girl has lost her father; this friend of mine is 
her next of kin; the law obliges him to marry her. 1 

JEsch. (aside.) Undone! 

Mic. What's the matter? 

.ZEsch. Nothing. Yery well : proceed. 

Mic. He has come to take her with him ; for he lives at 
Miletus. 

1 Obliges Mm to marry Tier) — Ver. 655. It appears to have been 
a law given by Solon to the Athenians that the next male relative of 
suitable age should marry a female orphan himself, or find her a suitable 
portion. Madame Dacier suggests that the custom was derived from 
the Phoenicians, who had received it from the Jews, and quotes the 
Book of lumbers, xxxvi. 8. This law forms the basis of the plot of 
the Phormio. 



Sc. VI. the bsothees. 2B5 

JE&tt. What! To take the girl away with him? 

Bfcc. Such is the fact. 

-.-Esch. All the way to Miletus, pray: 1 

Mic. Yes. 

JEsch. (aside.) I'm overwhelmed with grief. (To Micio.) 
But what of them? What do they say? 

Mic. What do you suppose they should ? Why. nothing 
at all. The mother has trumped up a tale, that there is a 
child by some other man. I know not who, and she does not 
state the name ; she says that he was the first, and that she 
ought not to he given to the other. 

jEsch. Well now, does not this seem just to vou after all ? 

Mic. Xo. 

iEscH. Why not, pray? Is the other to be carrying her 
away from here ? 

Mic. Why should he not take her ? 

^Esch. You have acted harshly and unfeelingly, and even, 
if. father. I may speak my sentiments more plainly, un- 
handsomely. 

Mic. Why so ? 

iEscH. Do you ask me? Pray, what do you think must be 
the state of mind of the man who was first connected with 
her, who. to his misfortune, may perhaps still love her to dis- 
traction, when he sees her torn away from before his face, and 
borne off from his sight for ever/ An unworthv action, 
lather ! 

Mic. On what grounds is it so ? Who betrothed her : 2 
Who gave her away ? ^ lien and to whom was she married ? 
Who was the author of all this ? Why did he connect himself 
with a woman who belonged to another ? 

JEsch. Was it to be expected that a young woman of her 
age should sit at home, waiting till a kinsman of hers should 
come from a distance : This, my father, you ought to have 
represented, and have insisted on it. 

1 To jliletus. pray ?) — Ver. C5S. A colony of Athens, on the coast of 
Asia Minor. 

- Who betrothed her?) — Ver. 673. Donatus observes that these ques- 
tions, which enumerate all the proofs requisite for a marriage, are an 
indirect and very delicate reproof of J^sehinus for the irregular and 
clandestine nature of his proceedings. 



236 adelphi; Act IV. 

Mic. Ridiculous! Was I to have pleaded against him 
whom I was to support ? But what's all this, iEschinus, to 

us ? What have we to do with them ? Let us begone : 

What's the matter ? Why these tears ? 

.iEscH. {weeping.) Father, I beseech you, listen to me. 

Mic. ^Eschinus, I have heard and know it all 5 for I love 
you, and therefore everything you do is the more a care 
to me. 

.iEsCH. So do I wish you to find me deserving of your 
love, as long as you live, my dear father, as I am sincerely 
sorry for the offence I have committed, and am ashamed to 
see you. 

Mic. Upon my word I believe it, for I know your in- 
genuous disposition : but I am afraid that yoii are too incon- 
siderate. In what city, pray, do you suppose you live ? You 
have debauched a virgin, whom it was not lawful for you to 
touch. In the first place then that was a great offence ; 
great, but still natural. Others, and even men of worth, have 
frequently done the same. But after it happened, pray, did 
you show any circumspection ? Or did you use any foresight 
as to what was to be done, or how it was to be done ? If you 
were ashamed to tell me of it, by what means was I to come 
to know it ? While you were at a loss upon these points, ten 
months have been lost. So far indeed as lay in your power, 
you have perilled both yourself and this poor girl, and the 
child. What did you imagine — that the Gods would set these 
matters to rights for you while you were asleep, and that she 
would be brought home to your chamber without any exertions 
of your own ? I would not have you to be equally negligent 
in other affairs. Be of good heart, you shall have her for 
your wife. 

^Esch. Hah! 

Mic. Be of good heart, I tell you. 

iEscH. Father, are you now jesting with me, pray ? 

Mic, I, jesting with you ! For what reason ? 

^Esch, I don't know ; but so anxiously do I wish this to 
be true, that I am the more afraid it may not be. 

Mic. Go home, and pray to the Gods that you may have 
your wife ; be off. 

iEscH. What ! have my wife now ? 



Sc. VII. THE BROTHERS. 237 

Mic. 'Now. 

JEsck Now? 

Mic. Now, as soon as possible. 

^Esch. May all the Gods detest me, father, If I do not 
love you better than even my very eyes ! 

Mic. What! letter than her ? 

jEsch. Quite as well. 

Mic. Very kind of you ! 

-^Esch. Well, where is this Milesian ? 

Mic. Departed, vanished, gone on board ship ; but why 
do you delay ? 

2Esch. Father, do you rather go and pray to the Gods ; 
for 1 know, for certain, that they will rather be propitious 
to you, 1 as being a much better man than I am. 

Mic. I'll go in doors, that what is requisite may be pre- 
pared. You do as I said, if you are wise. (Goes into his 
house.) 



Scene VII. 

iEscmxus alone. 

iEscH. What can be the meaning of this ? Is this beins: a 
father, or this being a son ? If he had been a brother or 
familiar companion, how could he have been more complai- 
sant ! Is he not worthy to be beloved ? Is he not to be 
imprinted in my very bosom ? Wei] then, the more does 
he impose an obligation on me by his kindness, to take 
due precaution not inconsiderately to do anything that he 
may not wish. But why do I delay going in-doors this 
instant, that I may not myself delay my own nuptials ? 
(Goes into the house of Micio.) 

1 Propitious to you) — Yer. 707. Donatus remarks that there is great 
delicacy in this compliment of xEschinus to Micio, which, though made 
in his presence, does not bear the semblance of flattery. Madame 
Dacier thinks that Terence here alludes to a line of Hesiod, which says 
that it is the duty of the aged to pray. Colman suggests that the 
passage is borrowed from some lines of Menander still in existence. 



238 adelphi; Act IV. 

Scene VIII. 
Enter Demea. 

I am quite tired with walking : May the great Jupiter 
confound you, Syrus, together with your directions ! I 
have crawled the whole city over ; to the gate, to the pond — 
where not? There was no joiner's shop there ; not a soul 
could say he had seen my brother ; but now I'm determined 
to sit and wait at his house till he returns. 



Scexe IX. 
Enter Mioio from his house. 

Mic. {speaking to the people within.) I'll go and tell them 
there's no delay on our part. 

Dem. But see here's the very man : O Micio, I have been 
seeking you this long time. 

Mic. Why, what's the matter ? 

Dem. I'm bringing you some new and great enormities of 
that hopeful youth. 

Mic. Just look at that ! 

Dem. Fresh ones, of blackest dye. 

Mic. There now — at it again, 

Dem. Ah, Micio! you little know what sort of person 
he is. 

Mic. I do. 

Dem. O simpleton ! you are dreaming that I'm talking 
about the Music-girl ; this crime is against a virgin and a 
citizen. 

Mic. I know it. 

Dem. So then, you know it, and put up with it ! 

Mic. Why not put up with it ? 

Dem. Tell me, pray, don't you exclaim about it ? Don't 
you go distracted ? 

Mic. Not I : certainly I had rather 1 

1 Certainly I had rather) — Yer. 730. He pauses after " quidem/' 
but he means to say that if he had his choice, he would rather it had 
not been so. 



Sc. IX. THE BROTHERS. 239 

Dem. There has been a child born. 

Mic. May the Gods be propitious to it. 

Dem. The girl has no fortune. 

Mic. So I have heard. 

Dem. And he — must he marry her without one ? 

Mic. Of course. 

Dem. What is to be done then ? 

Mic. Why, what the case itself points out : the young 
woman must be brought hither. 

Dem. Jupiter! must that be the way then? 

Mic. What can I do else ? 

Dem. What can you do ? If in reality this causes you no 
concern, to pretend it were surely the duty of a man. 

Mic. But I have already betrothed the young woman to 
liim ; the matter is settled : the marriage takes place to-day. 
I have removed all apprehensions. That is rather the duty 
of a man. 

Dem. But does the affair please you, Micio ? 

Mic. If I were able to alter it, no • now, as I cannot, I 
bear it with patience. The life of man is just like playing 
with dice : l if that which you most want to throw does 
not turn up, what turns up by chance you must correct by 
art. 

Dem. rare corrector ! of course it is by your art that 
twenty minae have been thrown away for a Music-girl ; who, 
as soon as possible, must be got rid of at any price ; and if 
not for money, why then for nothing. 

Mic. Not at all, and indeed I have no wish to sell her. 

Dem. What will you do with her then ? 

Mic. She shall be at my house. 

Dem. For heaven's sake, a courtesan and a matron in the 
same house ! 

1 Playing with dice) — Ver. 742. The " tesseree" of the ancients were 
cubes, or what we call "dice;" while the "tali" were in imitation 
of the knuckle-bones of animals, and were marked on four sides only. 
For some account of the mode of playing with the " tali," see the last 
Scene of the Asinaria, and the Curculio of Plautas, L 257—9. Madame 
Dacier suggests that Menander may possibly haye borrowed this passage 
from the Republic of Plato, B. X., where he says, " We should take 
counsel from accidents, and, as in a game at dice, act according to what 
has fallen, in the manner which reason tells us to be the best." 



240 adelphi; Act IV., Sc. X. 

Mic. Why not ? 

Dem. Do you imagine yon are in yonr senses ? 

Mic. Really I do think so. 

Dem. So may the Gods prosper me, I now see your folly ; 
I believe you are going to do so that you may have some- 
body to practise music with. 

Mic. Why not? 

Dem. And the new-made bride to be learning too ? 

Mic. Of course. 

Dem. Having hold of the rope, 1 you will be dancing with 
them. 

Mic. Like enough ; and you too along with us, if there's 
need. 

Dem. Ah me ! are you not ashamed of this ? 

Mic. Demea, do, for once, lay aside this anger of yours, 
and show yourself as you ought at your son's wedding, 
cheerful and good-humoured. I'll just step over to them, and 
return immediately. {Goes into Sostrata's house.) 

Scene X. 

Demea alone. 

Dem. O Jupiter ! here's a life ! here are manners ! here's 
madness ! A wife to be coming without a fortune ! A 
music-wench in the house ! A house full of wastefulness ! A 
young man ruined by extravagance ! An old man in his 
dotage ! — Should Salvation herself 2 desire it, she certainly 
could not save this family. (Exit. 

1 Hold of the rope) — Ver. 755. " Restim ductans saltabis." Donatus 
and Madame Dacier think that this is only a figurative expression for a 
dance in which all joined hands ; according to some, however, a dance is 
alluded to where the person who led off drew a rope or cord after him, 
which the rest of the company took hold of as they danced ; which 
was invented in resemblance of the manner in which the wooden horse 
was dragged by ropes into the city of Troy. 

2 Salvation herself ) — Ver. 764. See an observation relative to the 
translation of the word u Salus," in the Notes to riautus, vol. i. pages 
193, 450. 



Act V., Sc. II. THE BROTHERS. 241 

ACT THE FIFTH. 

Scene I. 

Enter Syrus, drunk, and Demea, on the opposite side of 

the stage. 

Syr. Upon my faith, my clear little Syrus, you have taken 
delicate care of yourself, and have done your duty 1 with 
exquisite taste ; be off with you. But since I've had my 
fill of everything indoors, I have felt disposed to take a 
walk. 

Dem. (apart.) Just look at that — there's an instance of 
their good training ! 

Syr. (to himself.) But see, here comes our old man. 
(Addressing him.) What's the matter ? Why out of spirits ? 

Dem. Oh you rascal ! 

Syr. Hold now; are you spouting your sage maxims 
here? 

Deh. If you were my servant 

Syr. Why, you would be a rich man, Demea, and improve 
your estate. 

Dem. I would take care that you should be an example 
to all the rest. 

Syr. For what reason ? What have I done ? 

Dem. Do you ask me ? iu the midst of this confusion, and 
during the greatest mischief, which is hardly yet set right, 
you have been getting drunk, you villain, as though things 
had been going on well. 

Syr. (aside) Really, I wish I hadn't come out. 

Scene II. 

Enter Dromo in haste, from the house of Micio. 

Dro. Hallo, Syrus ! Ctesipho desires you'll come back. 
Syr. Get you gone. (Pushes him lack into the house.) 

1 Have done your duty) — Ver. 767. His duty of providing the 
viands and drink for the entertainment. So Ergasilus says in the 
Captivi of Plautus, 1. r 912, " Xow I will go oft to my government 
(prtefecturam), to give laws to the bacon." 

R 



242 adelpiii; Act V. 

Dem. What is it he says about Ctesipho ? 

Syr. Nothing. 

Dem. How now, you hang-clog, is Ctesipho in the house ? 

Syr. He is not. 

Dem. Then why does he mention him ? 

Syr. It's another person; a little diminutive Parasite. 
Don't you know him ? 

Dem. I will know him before long. {Going to the door.) 

Syr. {stopping him.) What are you about ? Whither are 
you going ? 

Dem. {struggling}) Let me alone. 

Syr. (holding him.) Don't, I tell you. 

Dem. Won't you keep your hands off, whip-scoundrel ? 
Or would you like me to knock your brains out this instant ? 
{Rushes into the house.) 

Syr. He's gone ! no very pleasant boon-companion, upon 
my faith, particularly to Ctesipho. What am I to do now? 
Why, even get into some corner till this tempest is lulled, 
and sleep off this drop of wine. That's my plan. ( Goes into 
the house, staggering.) 

Scene III. 

Enter Micio, from the house of Sostrata. 

Mic. {to Sostrata, icithin.) Everything's ready with us, 
as I told you, Sostrata, when you like. — Who, I wonder, is 
making my door fly open with such fury ? 

Enter Demea in haste, from the house of Micio. 

Dem. Alas ! what shall I do ? How behave ? In what 
terms exclaim, or how make my complaint ? O heavens ! 
O earth ! seas of Neptune ! 

Mic. {apart.) Here's for you! he has discovered all about 
the affair; and of course is now raving about it ; a quarrel 
is the consequence ; I must assist him, 1 however. 

1 / must assist him) — Ver. 795. Colman remarks on this passage : 
* f The character of Micio appears extremely amiable through the first 
fttx Acts of this Comedy, and his behaviour is in many respects worthy 
of imitation; but his conduct in conniving at the irregularities of 
Ctesipho, and even assisting him to support them, is certainly repre- 



Sc. III. THE BROTHERS. 243 

Dem. See, liere comes the common comiptor of my 
children. 

Mic. Pray moderate yonr passion, and recover yourself. 

Dem. I have moderated it ; I am myself ; I forbear all 
reproaches ; let us come to the point : was this agreed upon 
between us, — proposed by yourself, in fact, — that you were 
not to concern yourself about my son, nor I about yours ? 
Answer me. 

Mic. It is the fact, — I don't deny it. 

Dem. Why is he now carousing at your house ? Why are 
you harbouring my son? Why do you purchase a mistress 
for him, Micio ? Is it at all fair, that I should have any less 
justice from you, than you from me ? Since I do not concern 
myself about your son, don't you concern yourself about mine. 

Mic. You don't reason fairly. 

Dem. No? 

Mic. For surely it is a maxim of old, that among them- 
selves all things are common to friends. 

Dem. Smartly said; you've got that speech up for the 
occasion. % 

Mic. Listen to a few words, unless it is disagreeable, 
Demea. In the first place, if the extravagance your sons 
are guilty of distresses you, pray do reason with yourself. 
You formerly brought up the two suitably to your circum- 
stances, thinking that your own property would have to 
suffice for them both ; and, of course, you then thought that 
I should marry. Adhere to that same old rule of yours, — save, 
scrape together, and be thrifty for tliem ; take care to leave 
them as much as possible, and take that credit to yourself: 
my fortune, which has come to them beyond their expectation, 
allow them to enjoy; of your capital there will be no 
diminution ; what comes from this quarter, set it all down as 
so much gain. If you think proper impartially to consider 
these matters in your mind, Demea, you will save me and 
yourself, and them, considerable uneasiness. 

Dem. I don't speak about the expense ; their morals— 

Mic. Hold; I understand you; that point I was coming 

hensible. Perhaps the Poet threw this shade over his virtues on pur- 
pose to show that mildness and good humour might be carried to 
excess." 

r2 



244 adelphi; Act V. 

to. 1 There are in men, Deniea, many signs from which 
a conjecture is easily formed • so that when two persons do 
the same thing, you may often say, this one may be allowed 
to do it with impunity, the other may not; not that the 
thing itself is different, but that he is who does it. I see 
signs in them, so as to feel confident that they will turn out as 
we wish. I see that they have good sense and understanding, 
that they have modesty upon occasion, and are affectionate 
to each other ; you may infer that their bent and disposition 
is of a pliant nature ; at any time you like you may reclaim 
them. But still, you may be apprehensive that they will be- 
somewhat too apt to neglect their interests. O my dear 
Demea, in all other things we grow wiser with age ; this sole 
vice does old age bring upon men : we are all more solicitous 
about our own interests than we need be ; and in this respect 
age will make them sharp enough. 

Dem. Only take care, Micio, that these fine reasonings of 
yours, and this easy disposition of yours, do not ruin us in 
the end. 

Mic. Say no more ; there's no danger of that. Now think 
no further of these matters. Put yourself to-day into my 
hands ; smooth your brow. 

Dem. Why, as the occasion requires it, I must do so : but 
to-morrow I shall he off with my son into the country at 
daybreak. 

Mic. Aye, to-night, for my share; only keep yourself in 
good humour for the day. 

Dem. I'll carry off that Music-girl along with me as well. 

Mic. You will gain your point ; by that means you will 
keep your son fast there ; only take care to secure her. 

Dem. I'll see to that ; and what with cooking and grinding, 
I'll take care she shall be well covered with ashes, smoke, and 

1 That point I was coming to)— Yer. 824. Colman observes here r 
" Madame Dacier makes an observation on this speech, something like 
that of Donatus on one of Micio's above ; and says that Micio, being hard 
put to it by the real circumstances of the case, thinks to confound Demea 
by a nonsensical gallimatia. I cannot be of the ingenious lady's opinion 
on this matter, for I think a more sensible speech could not be made, 
nor a better plea offered in favour of the young men, than that of Micio 
in the present instance." 



Sc. IV. THE BKOTHEKS. 245 

meal; besides all this, at the very mid-clay 1 I'll set her 
gathering stubble ; I'll make her as burnt and as black as a 
coal. 

Mic. You quite delight me ; now you seem to me to be 
wise * and for my part I would then compel my son to go 
to bed with her, even though he should be unwilling. 

Dem. Do you banter me ? Happy man, to have such a 
temper ! I feel 

Mic. Ah ! at it again ! 

Deic. I'll have done then at once. 

Mic. Go indoors then, and let's devote this day to the 
object 2 to which it belongs. (Goes into the house.) 



Scene IV. 
Demea alone. 

Dem. Never was there any person of ever such well-trained 
habits of life, but that experience, age, and custom are always 
bringing him something new, or suggesting something; so 
-much so, that what you believe you know you don't know, 
and what you have fancied of first importance to you, on 
making trial you reject; and this is my case at present: 
for the rigid life I have hitherto led, my race nearly run, 
I now renounce. Why so ? — I have found, by experience, 
that there is nothing better for a man than an easy temper 
and complacency. That this is the truth, it is easy for any 
one to understand on comparing me with my brother. He has 
always spent his life in ease and gaiety; mild, gentle, offensive 
to no one, having a smile for all, he has lived for himself, and 
has spent his money for himself; all men speak well of him, 
all love him. I, again, a rustic, a rigid, cross, self-denying, 
morose and thrifty person, married a wife ; what misery I 
entailed in consequence! Sons were born — a fresh care. And 
just look, while I have been studying to do as much as pos- 
sible for them, I have worn out my life and years in saving ; 
now, in the decline of my days, the return I get from 
them for my pains is their dislike. He, on the other hand, 

1 At the very mid-day) — Yer. S51. Exposed to the heat of a mid-day 
sun. 

2 To the object) — Yer. 857. The marriage and its festivities. 



246 adelphi; Act Y. 

without any trouble on his part, enjoys a father's comforts; 
they love him ; me they shun ; him they trust with all their 
secrets, are fond of him, are always with him. I am for- 
saken I they wish him to live ; but my death, forsooth, they 
are longing for. Thus, after bringing them up with all 
possible pains, at a trifling cost he has made them his own ; 
thus I bear all the misery, he enjoys the pleasure. Well 
then, henceforward let us try, on the other hand, whether 
I can't speak kindly and act complaisantly, as he challenges 
me to it : I also want myself to be loved and highly 
valued by my friends. If that is to be effected by giving 
and indulging, I will not be behind him. If our means fail, 
that least concerns me, as I am the eldest. 1 

Scene Y. 
Enter Syrus. 

Syr Hark you, Demea, your brother begs you will not go 
out of the way. 

Dem. Who is it ? — O Syrus, my friend, 2 save you ! how 
are you? How goes it with you ? 

Syr. Yery well. 

Dem. Yery good. (Aside) I have now for the first time 
used these three expressions contrary to my nature, — " O 
Syrus, my friend, how are you? — how goes it with you?'* 
{To Syrus.) You show yourself far from an unworthy servant, 
and I shall gladly do you a service. 

Syr. I thank you. 

Dem. Yes, Syrus, it is the truth ; and you shall be con- 
vinced of it by experience before long. 

Scene YI. 
Enter Geta, from the house of Sostrata. 
Geta. (to Sostrata, within) Mistress, I am going to see 

1 Am the eldest) — Yer. 884. And therefore likely to be the first to 
die, and to avoid seeing such a time come. 

2 Syrus, my friend) — Yer. 886. The emptiness of his poor attempts 
to be familiar are very evident in this line. 



Sc. VII. THE BROTHERS. 24 'f 

after them, that they may send for the damsel as soon as 
possible; but see, here's Deraea. {Accosting him.) Save you! 

Dem. O, what's your name ? 

Geta. Geta, 

Dem. Geta, I have this day come to the conclusion that 
you are a man of very great worth, for I look upon him as 
an undoubtedly good servant who has a care for his master; 
as I have found to be your case, Geta; and for that reason, 
if any opportunity should offer, I would gladly do you a 
service. {Aside.) I am practising the afiable, and it succeeds 
very well. 

Geta. You are kind, sir, to think so. 

Dem. {aside.) Getting on by degrees — I'll first make the 
lower classes my own. 

Scene VII. 

Enter iEscinxus, from the house of Micio. 

^Esch. {to himself.) They really are killing me while too 
intent on performing the nuptials with all ceremony ; the 
whole day is being wasted in their preparations. 

Dem. ^Eschinus ! how goes it ? 

.ZEsch. Ha, my father ! are you here ? 

Dem. Your father, indeed, both by affection and by nature ; 
as I love you more than my very eyes ; but why don't you 
send for your wife ? 

^Esch. So I wish to do; but I am waiting for the music- 
girl 1 and people to sing the nuptial song. 

Dem. Come now, are you willing; to listen to an old 
fellow like me ? 

jEsch. What is it ? 

Dem. Let those things alone, the nuptial song, the 
crowds, the torches, 2 and the music-girls, and order the 

1 The music-girl)— ^er. 90S. " Tibicinae," or music-girls, attended 
at marriage ceremonials. See the Aulularia of Plautus, where Mega- 
dorus hires the music-girls on his intended marriage with the daughter 
of Euclio. 

2 The crowds, the torches) — Yer. 910. See the Casina of Plautus, 
Act IV. Scenes 3 and 4, for some account of the marriage ceremonial. 
The torches, music-girls, processions, and hymemeal song, generally 
accompanied a wedding, but from the present passage we may conclude 
that they were not considered absolutely necessary. 



248 adelphi; Act V. 

stone-wall in the garden 1 here to be pulled down with all 
dispatch, and bring her over that way; make but one house 
of the two; bring the mother and all the domestics over to 
our house. 

iEscH. "With all my heart, kindest father. 

Dem. (aside.) Well done ! now I am called " kind." My 
brother's house will become a thoroughfare ; he will be bring- 
ing home a multitude, incurring expense in many ways : what 
matters it to me? I, as the kind Demea, shall get into favour. 
Now then, bid that Babylonian 2 pay down his twenty minse. 
(To Syrus.) Syrus, do you delay to go and do it ? 

Syr. What am I to do ? 

Dem. Pull down the wall: and you, Geta, go and bring 
them across. 

Geta. May the Gods bless you, Demea, as I see you so 
sincere a well-wisher to our family. (Geta and Syrus go 
into Micio's house.) 

Dem. I think they deserve it. What say you, JEschinus, 
as to this plan ? 

^Esch. I quite agree to it. 

Dem. It is much more proper than that she, being sick 
and lying-in, should be brought hither through the street. 

-ZEsch. Why, my dear father, I never did see anything 
better contrived. 

Dem. It's my way; but see, here's Micio coming out. 

Scene VIII. 
'Enter Micio, from his house. 

Mic. (speaking to Geta, within.) Does my brother order 
it ? Where is he ? (To Demea.) Is this your order, Demea ? 

Dem. Certainly, I do order it, and in this matter, and in 
everything else, wish especially to make this family one with 
ourselves, to oblige, serve, and unite them. 

1 Stone-wall in the garden) — Ver. 911. The "maceria," or garden-wall 
of loose stones, is also mentioned in the Truculentus of Plautus, L 301. 

2 Bid that Babylonian) — Yer. 918. This passage has much puzzled 
the Commentators; but it seems most probable that it is said aside, and 
that in consequence of his profuseness he calls his brother a Babylonian, 
(just as we call a wealthy man a nabob,) and says, " Well, let him, 
with all my heart, be paying twenty minse (between 70Z. and 80?.) for 
a music-girl." 



Sc. YIIL the brothers; 249 

JEsch. Father, pray let it be so. 

Mic. I do not oppose it. 

Dem. On the contrary, i'faith, it is what we ought to do : 
in the first place, she is the mother of his wife (pointing to 
-^Eschinus). 

Mic. She is. What then ? 

Dem. An honest and respectable woman. 

Mic. So they say. 

Dem. Advanced in years. 

Mic. I am aware of it. 

Dem. Through her years, she is long past child-bearing ; 
there is no one to take care of her ; she is a lone woman. 

Mic. (aside.) What can be his meaning? 

Dem. It is right you should marry her ; and that you, 
^schinus, should use your endeavours to effect it. 

Mic. I, marry her, indeed ? 

Dem. You. 

Mic. I ? 

Dem. You, I say. 

Mic. You are trifling ! 

Dem. JEschinus, if you are a man, he'll do it. 

.iEscH. My dear father 

Mic. What, ass ! do you attend to him ? 

Dem. 'T is all in vain ; it cannot be otherwise. 

Mic. You are mad ! 

^Esch. Do let me prevail on you, my father. 

Mic. Are you out of your senses? Take yourself off. 1 

Dem. Come, do oblige your son. 

Mic. Are you quite in your right mind ? Am I, in my 
five-and-sixtieth year, to be marrying at last ? A decrepit old 
woman too ? Do you advise me to do this ? 

^Esch. Do ; I have promised it. 2 

Mic. Promised, indeed ; be generous at your own cost, 
young man. 

Dem. Come, what if he should ask a still greater fa- 
vour? 

1 Take yourself off) — Ver. 940. iEschinus, probably, in his earnest- 
ness, has seized hold of him with his hand, which Micio now pushes 
away. 

2 I have promised it) — Ver. 943. This is not the truth; the notion 
has only been started since he last saw them. 



250 adelphi; Act V. 

Mic. As if this was not the greatest ! 

Dem. Do comply. 

^Esch. Don't make any difficulty. 

Dem. Do promise. 

Mic. Will you not have done ? 

.^Esch. Not until I have prevailed upon you. 

Mic. Really, this is downright force. 1 

Dem. Act with heartiness, Micio. 

Mic. Although this seems to me 2 to he wrong, foolish, 
absurd, and repugnant to my mode of life, yet, if you so 
strongly wish it, be it so. 

.ZEsch. You act obligingly. 

Dem. With reason I love you; but 

Mic. What? 

Dem. I will tell you, when my wish has been complied 
with. 

Mic. What now ? What remains to oe done? 

Dem. Hegio here is their nearest relation ; lie is a con- 
nexion of ours and poor ; we ought to do some good for him. 

Mic. Do what? 

Dem. There is a little farm here in the suburbs, which 
you let out ; let us give it him to live upon. 

Mic. But is it a little one ? 

Dem. If it were a large one, still it ought to be done ; he 
has been as it were a father to her ; he is a worthy man, and 
connected with us ; it would be properly bestowed. In fine, 

1 Really, this is downright force) — Ver. 946. "Vis est hsec quidem." 
The same expression occurs in the Captivi of Plautus, 1. 755. The 
expression seemed to be a common one with the Eomans. According 
to Suetonius, Julius Caesar used it when attacked by his murderers in 
the senate-house. On Tullius Cimber seizing hold of his garments, he 
exclaimed, " Ita quidem vis est !" — " Why, really, this is violence !'' 

2 This seems to me) — Ver. 947. Donatus informs us that in Menan- 
der's Play, the old man did not make any resistance whatever to the 
match thus patched up for him. Colman has the following observation 
on this fact : " It is surprising that none of the critics on this passage 
have taken notice of this observation of Donatus, especially as our loss 
of Menander makes it rather curious. It is plain that Terence in the 
plan of his last Act followed Menander ; but though he has adopted the 
absurdity of marrying Micio to the old lady, yet we learn from Donatus 
that his judgment rather revolted at this circumstance, and he improved 
on his original by making Micio express a repugnance to such a match, 
which it seems he did not in the Play of Menander." 



Sa IX. THE BROTHERS. 251 

I now adopt that proverb which you, Micio, a short time ago 
repeated with sense and wisdom — it is the common vice of all, 
in old age, to be too intent upon our own interests. This 
stain we ought to avoid : it is a true maxim, and ought 
to be observed in deed. 

Mic. What am I to say to this? Well then, as he desires 
it (pointing to j^Eschinus), it shall be given him. 

^Esch. My father! 

Dem. Now, Micio, you are indeed my brother, both in 
spirit and in body. 

Mic. I am glad of it. 

Dem. (aside). I foil him at his own weapon. 1 

Scene IX. 
Enter Syrus, from the house. 

Syr. It has been done as you ordered, Demea. 

DEii. You are a worthy fellow. Upon my faith, — in my 
opinion, at least, — I think Syrus ought at once to be made 
free. 

Mic. He free ! For what reason ? 

Dem. For many. 

Syr. O my dear Demea! upon my word, you are a worthy 
man ! I have strictly taken care of both these sons of yours, 
from childhood; I have taught, advised, and carefully in- 
structed them in everything I could. 

Dem. The thing is evident ; and then, besides all this, 
to cater for them, secretly bring home a wench, prepare a 
morning entertainment; 2 these are the accomplishments of no 
ordinary person. 

Syr. O, what a delightful man ! 

Dem. Last of all, he assisted to-day in purchasing this 
Music- wench — he had the management of it ; it is right he 
should be rewarded ; other servants will be encouraged 
thereby: besides, he (pointing to .zEschinus) desires it to 
be so. 

1 At his own weapon) — Yer. 961. He probably means, by aping the 
kind feeling which is a part of Micio's character. 

2 A morning entertainment) — Yer. 969. A banquet in the early part 
or middle of the day was considered by the Greeks a debauch. 



252 adelphi; Act V. 

Mia (to iEscHixus.) Do you desire this to be done ? 

^Esch. I do wish it. 

Mic. Why thee, if you desire it, just come hither, Syrus, 
to me {performing the ceremony of many/mission) ; be a free 
man. 1 

Syr. You act generously ; I return my thanks to you all ; — 
and to you, Demea, in particular. 

Dem. I congratulate you. 

iEscH. And I. 

Syr. I believe you. I wish that this joy were made com- 
plete — that I could see my wife, Phrygia, 2 free as well. 

Dem. Really, a most excellent woman. 

Syr. And the first to suckle your grandchild, his son, to-day 
(pointing to iEscmxus). 

Dem. Why really, in seriousness, if she was the first to 
do so, there is no doubt she ought to be made free. 

Mic. What, for doing that ? 

Dem. For doing that ; in fine, receive the amount from 
me 3 at which she is valued. 

Syr. May all the Gods always grant you, Demea, all you 
desire. 

Mic. Syrus, you have thrived pretty well to-day. 

Dem. If, in addition, Micio, you will do your duty, and 
lend him a little ready money in hand for present use, he will 
soon repay you. 

Mic. Less than this (snapping Ms fingers). 

^Esch. He is a deserving fellow. 

Syr. Upon my word, I will repay it ; only lend it me. 

^Esch. Do, father. 

Mic I'll consider of it afterwards. 

Dem. He'll do it, Syrus. 

Syr. O most worthy man ! 

iEscH. O most kind-hearted father ! 

1 Be a free man)— -Yer. 974. He t ouches Syrus on the ear, and 
makes him free. The same occurs in the Epidicus of Plautus, Act Y. 
Sc. 2, 1. 65. 

2 My wife, Phrygia)— -Yer. 977. The so-called marriage, or rather 
cohabitation, of the Roman slaves will be found treated upon in the 
2s otes to Plautus. Syrus calls Phrygia his wife on anticipation that she 
will become a free woman. 

3 Receive the amount from me)— Yer. 981. The only sign of genero- 
sity he has yet shown. 



Sc. IX. THE BROTHERS. 253 

Mic. How is this ? What has so suddenly changed your 
disposition, Demea ? What caprice is this ? What means 
this sudden liberality r l 

De3I. I will tell you : — That I may convince you of this, 
Micio, that the fact that they consider you an easy and kind- 
hearted man, does not proceed from your real life, nor, in- 
deed, from a regard for virtue and justice; but from your 
humouring, indulging, and pampering them. Now therefore, 
^Eschinus, if my mode of life has been displeasing to you, 
because I do not quite humour you in every thing, just or 
unjust, I have done : squander, buy, do what you please. But 
if you would rather have one to reprove and correct those 
faults, the results of which, by reason of your youth, you 
cannot see, which you pursue too ardently, and are thought- 
less upon, and in due season to direct you ; behold me ready 
to do it for you. 

iEscH. Father, we leave it to you ; you best know what 
ought to be done. But what is to be done about my 
brother ? 

Dem. I consent. Let him have liis mistress : 2 with her let 
him make an end of his follies. 

Mic. That's right. (To the Audience.) Grant us your 
applause. 

1 Tliis sudden liberality) — Ver. 989. " Quid prolubium? Qua? 
istsec subita est largitas V Madame Dacier tells us that this passage 
was borrowed from Coecilius, the Comic Poet. 

2 Let him have his mistress) — Ver. 1001. It must be remembered 
that he has the notions of a Greek parent, and sees no such criminality 
in this sanction as a parent would be sensible of at the present day. 



HECYEA; THE MOTHEB-IN-LAW. 



DRAMATIS PERSON/E. 

Laciies, 1 an aged Athenian, father of Pamphilus. 
Phidippus,- an aged Athenian, father of Philumena, 
Pamphilus, 3 son of Laches. 
Sosia, 4 servant of Pamphilus. 
Parmeno, 5 servant of Sostrata. 

Sostrata, 6 wife of Laches. 
Myrrhina, 7 wife of Phidippus. 
Bacchis, 8 a Courtesan. 
Philotis, 9 a Courtesan. 
Stra, 10 a Procuress. 

Scene. — Athens ; before the houses of Laches, Phidippus, and Bacchis. 



1 See the Dramatis Personae of the Eunuchus. 

2 From 0a£d>, u parsimony," and Ittttoc, " a horse" 

3 See the Dramatis Personae of the Andria. 

4 See the Dramatis Personae of the Andria. 

5 See the Dramatis Personae of the Eunuchus. 

6 See the Dramatis Personae of the Heautontimorumenos. 

7 From iivopivi), " a myrtle." 

8 See the Dramatis Personae of the Heautontimorumenos. 

9 From (pi\oT7)c, "friendship." 

10 From Syria, her native country. 



THE SUBJECT. 



Pamphilus, the son of Laches by his wife Sostrata, being at the time 
enamoured of Bacchis, a Courtesan, chances, one night, in a drunken 
fit, to debauch Philumena, the daughter of Phidippus and Myrrhina. 
In the struggle he takes a ring from her, which he gives to Bacchis. 
Some time afterwards, at his father's express desire, he consents to 
marry. By chance the young woman whom he has ravished is 
given to him as a wife, to the great joy of her mother, who alone 
is aware of her misfortune, and hopes that her disgrace may be 
thereby concealed. It, however, happens otherwise ; for Pamphilus, 
still retaining his passion for Bacchis, refuses for some time to 
cohabit with her. Bacchis, however, now rejects the advances of 
Pamphilus, who by degrees becomes weaned from his affection for 
her, and grows attached to his wife, whom he has hitherto disliked. 
Meantime, however, he is suddenly called away from home. During 
his absence, Philumena, finding herself pregnant in consequence of 
her misfortune before her marriage, fearing detection, especially avoids 
the company of her mother-in-law. At length she makes an excuse 
for returning to the home of her own parents, where she remains. 
Sostrata thereupon sends for her, but is answered that she is ill, on 
which she goes to see her. but is refused admittance to the house. 
On hearing of this, Laches blames his wife as being the cause of this 
estrangement. Pamphilus now returns, and it so happens that, on the 
day of his arrival, Philumena is brought to bed of a child. Impatient 
to see her, Pamphilus rushes into her room, and to his great distress 
finds that this is the case. Myrrhina thereupon entreats him to 
keep the matter secret, and begs him, if he refuses to receive her 
daughter back again, at least not to ruin her reputation by divulging 
it. As he now declines either to take back his wife or give his reason 
for so doing. Laches suspects that he is still enamoured of Bacchis, 
and accordingly sends for her, and expostulates with her. She, 
however, exonerates herself; on which the old man, supposing that 
Philumena and her mother are equally ignorant with himself as to 
his son's motives, begs her to call on them and remove their suspicions. 
"While she is conversing with them, they recognize the ring upon her 
finger which Pamphilus had formerly taken from Philumena. By 
means of this it is discovered that Pamphilus himself is the person 
who has ravished Philumena; on which, overjoyed, he immediately 
takes home his wife and son. 



THE TITLE OF THE PLAT. 



Performed at the Megalensian Games ; Sextus Julius Caesar 
and Cneius Cornelius Dolabella being Curule -^Ediles. The 
whole was not then acted. Flaccus, the freedman of 
Claudius, composed the music to a pair of flutes. It was 
composed wholly from the Greek of Menander. 1 It was 
performed the first time without a Prologue. Represented 
a second time; Cneius Octavius and T. Manlius being 
Consuls. 2 It was then brought out in honour of L. 
^Emilius Paulus, at his Funeral Games, and was not ap- 
proved of. It was repeated a third time ; Q. Fulvius and 
L. Marcius being Curule ^Ediles. L. Ambivius Turpio 
performed it. It was then approved of. 3 



1 Menander) — According to some, this Play was borrowed from the 
Greek of Apollodorus, a Comic Poet and contemporary of Menander, 
who wrote forty-seven Plays. 

2 Being Consuls) — Cneius Octavius Nepos and T. Manlius Torquatus 
were Consuls in the year from the building of the City 587, and B.C. 166. 

3 It was then approved of) — "Placuit." This is placed at the end, 
in consequence of the inauspicious reception which had been given to it 
on the two first representations. See the account given in the Prologues. 



HECYEA; THE MOTHEB-IN-LAW. 



THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLIXAKIS. 

Pamphilus has married Pliilumena, to whom, when a virgin, he formerly, 
not knowing who she was, offered violence ; and whose ring, which he 
look off by force, he gave to his mistress, Bacchis, a Courtesan. After- 
wards he sets out for Imbros, not having touched his bride. Hav- 
ing become pregnant, her mother brings her over to her own house, 
as though sick, that her mother-in-law may not know it. Pamphilus 
returns ; detects her being delivered ; conceals it ; but determines not 
to take back his wife. His father imputes this to his passion for 
Bacchis. While Bacchis is exculpating herself, Myrrhina, the mother 
of the injured girl, by chance recognizes the ring. Pamphilus takes 
back his wife, together with his son. 



THE FIRST PBOLOGTTE. 

Hecyra 1 is the name of this Play; when it was represented 
for the first time, an unusual disaster and calamity 2 inter- 
rupted it, so that it could not be witnessed throughout or 
estimated \ so much had the populace, carried away with 
admiration, devoted their attention to some rope-dancing. It 
is now offered as though entirely a new Play; and he who 
wrote it did not wish to bring it forward then a second time, 
on purpose that he might be able again to sell it. 3 Other 

1 Hecyra) — Yer. 1. The Greek word "Ekvoci, a " step-mother," or 
<{ mother-in-law," Latinized. 

- And calamity) — Yer. 3. " Calamitas." This word is used in the 
fame sense in the first line of the Eunuch. This is evidently the 
Prologue spoken on the second attempt to bring forward the piece. 
On the first occasion it probably had none. " Yitium" was a word used 
by the Augurs, with whom it implied an unfavourable omen, and thence 
came to be used for any misfortune or disaster. He seems to mean the 
depraved taste of the public, that preferred exhibitions of rope-dancers 
and pugilists to witnessing his Plays. 

3 Again to sell it)-— Yer. 7. See the last ISTote to the Second Pro- 
logue. 

S 



258 

Plays of his 1 you have seen represented ; I beg you now to 
give your attention to this. 



THE SECOND PROLOGUE. 2 

I come to you as an envoy from the Poet, in the character of 
prologue-speaker; allow me to be a successful pleader, that in 
my old age I may enjoy the same privilege that I enjoyed when 
a younger man, when I caused new Plays, that had been once 
rejected, to come into favour; so that his writings might not 
die with the Poet. Among them, as to those of Cascilius, 3 which 
I first studied when new; in some of which I was rejected; in 
some I kept my ground with difficulty. As I knew that the 
fortune of the stage was varying, where the hopes were uncer- 
tain, I submitted to certain toil. Those I zealously attempted 
to perform, that from the same writer I might learn new ones, 
and not discourage him from his pursuits. I caused them to 
be represented. When seen, they pleased. Thus did I re- 
store the Poet to his place, who was now almost weaned, 
through the malevolence of his adversaries, from his pursuits 
and labours, and from the dramatic art. But if I had at that 
period slighted the writer, and had wished to use my endea- 

1 Other Plays of his) — Yer. 8. Madame Dacier informs us thatYossius 
was of opinion that the second representation of this Play did not take 
place till after that of the Adelphi. In that case, they had already 
seen the rest of his Plays. 

2 Second Prologue) — Eugraphius informs us that this Prologue was. 
spoken by Ambivius Turpio, the head of the company of Actors. 

3 Ccecilius) — Yer. 14. Colman has the following Note : "A famous 
Comic Poet among the Eomans. His chief excellences are said to have 
been, the gravity of his style and the choice of his subjects. The first 
quality was attributed to him by Horace, Tully, &c, and the last by 
Yarro. ' In argumentis Csecilius poscit palmam, in ethesi Terentius.' 
'In the choice of subjects, Caecilius demands the preference; in the man- 
ners, Terence.' " Madame Dacier, indeed, renders "in argumentis," "in. 
the disposition of his subjects." But the words will not bear that con- 
struction. "Argumentum," I believe, is uniformly used for the argu- 
ment itself, and never implies the conduct of it; as in the Prologue to 
the Andrian, " non tarn dissimili argumento." Besides, the disposition 
of the subject was the very art attributed by the critics of those days to 
Terence, and which Horace mentions in the very same line with the 
gravity of Ceecilius, distinguishing them as the several characteristics of 
each writer, " Yincere Csecilius gravitate, Terentius arte." 



THE MOTHES-IX-LAW. 259 

yours in discouraging him, so that he might lire a life of idle- 
ness rather than of study, I might have easily discouraged 
him from writing others. Xow, for my sake, hear with un- 
biassed minds what it is I ask. I again bring before you the 
Hecyra, which I have never been allowed to act before you in 
silence ; such misfortunes have so overwhelmed it. These mis- 
fortunes your intelligence will allay, if it is a seconder of our 
exertions. The first time, when I began to act this Play, the 
vauntings of boxers, 1 the expectation of a rope-dancer, 2 added 
to which, the throng of followers, the noise, the clamour of the- 
women, caused me to retire from your presence before the time. 
In this new Play, I attempted to follow the old custom of 
mine? of making a fresh trial; I brought it on again. In the 
first Act I pleased ; when in the meantime a rumour spread 
that gladiators were about to be exhibited; the populace 
flock together, make a tumult, clamour aloud, and fight 
for their places : 4 meantime, I was unable to maintain my 
place. Now there is no confusion : there is attention and 
silence — an opportunity of acting my Play has been granted 
me; to yourselves is given the power of gracing the scenic 
festival. 5 Do not permit, through your agency, the dramatic 

1 Vauntings of boxers) — Ter. 33. Horace probably had this passage in. 
his mind when he penned the First Epistle in his Second Book, 1. 185; 
where he mentions the populace leaving a Play in the midst for the 
sight of a bear, or an exhibition of boxers. 

2 Of a rope-dancer) — Yer. 34. The art of dancing on the tight rope 
was carried to great perfection among the ancients. Many paintings- 
hare been discovered, which show the numerous attitudes which the 
performers assumed. The figures have their heads enveloped in skins 
or caps, probably intended as a protection in case of falling. At the 
conclusion of the performance the dancer ran down the rope. G-er- 
manicus and Galba are said to have exhibited elephants dancing on the 
tight rope. 

3 The old custom of mine) — Yer. 38. He says that on the second 
representation he followed the plan which he had formerly adopted in 
the Plays of Csecilius, of bringing those forward again which had not 
given satisfaction at first. 

4 Fight for their places) — Yer. 41. This was in consequence of their 
sitting indiscriminately at the Amphitheatre, where the gladiators were 
exhibited ; whereas at the Theatres there were distinct places appro- 
priated to each " ordo " or class. 

5 Gracing the scenic festival) — Yer. 45. Madame Dacier remarks 
that there is great force and eloquence in the Actor's affecting a concern 
for the sacred festivals, which were in danger of being deprived of their 

s2 



260 hecyra; Act I. 

art to sink into the hands of a few ; let your authority prove a 
seconder and assistant to my own. If I have never covetously 
set a price upon my skill and have come to this conclusion, 
that it is the greatest gain in the highest possible degree 
to contribute to your entertainment \ allow me to obtain this 
of you, that him who has entrusted his labours to my protec- 
tion, and himself to your integrity, — that him, I say, the 
malicious may not maliciously deride, beset by them on every 
side. For my sake, admit of this plea, and attend in 
silence, that he may be encouraged to write other Flays, and 
that it may be for my advantage to study new ones hereafter, 
purchased at my own expense. 1 



ACT THE FIKST. 

Scene I. 

Enter Philotis 2 and Syea. 

Phil. I'faith, Syra, you can find but very few lovers 
who prove constant to their mistresses. For instance, how 
often did this Pamphilus swear to Bacchis — how solemnly, 

chief ornaments, if by too great a severity they discouraged the Poets 
who undertook to furnish the Plays during the solemnity. 

1 At my oivn expense) — Yer. 57. It is generally supposed that " meo 
pretio" means "a price named as my estimate :" and that it was the 
custom for the iEdiles to purchase a Play of a Poet at a price fixed by 
the head of the company of actors. It is also thought that the money 
was paid to the actor, who handed over the whole, or a certain part, to 
the Poet, and if the Play was not received with favour, the iEdiles had 
the right to ask back the money from the actor, who consequently 
became a loser by the transaction. Pareus and Meric Casaubon 
think, however, that in the case of this Play, the ^Ediles had purchased 
it from the Poet, and the performers had bought it of the JEdiles as a 
speculation. What he means at the end of the First Prologue by 
selling the Play over again, is not exactly known. Perhaps if the Play 
had been then performed throughout and received with no favour, 
he would have had to forfeit the money, and lose all right to any 
future pecuniary interest in it ; but he preferred to cancel the whole 
transaction, and to reserve the Play for purchase and representation 
at a more favourable period. 

2 Philotis) — This is a protatic character, or one that helps to introduce 
the subject of the Play, and then appears no more. 



Sc, II. THE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 261 

so that any one might have readily believed hiro. — that he 
never would take home a wife so long as she lived. Well 
now, he is married. 

Syr. Therefore, for that very reason, I earnestly both 
advise and entreat you to take pity upon no one. but 
plunder, fleece, and rend every man you lay hold of. 

Phil. What ! Hold no one exempt ? 

Syr. Xo one; for not a single one of them, rest assured, 
comes to you without making up his mind, by means of his 
flatteries, to gratify his passion with you at the least possible 
expense. Will you not, pray, plot against them in return ? 

Phil. And yet, upon my faith, it is unfair to be the same 
to all. 

Syr. What ! unfair to take revenge on your enemies ? or, 
for them to be caught in the very way they try to catch 
you ? Alas ! wretched me ! why do not your age and beauty 
belong to me, or else these sentiments of mine to you ? 

Scene II. 
Tmter H?ABMESofirdm the house of Laches. 

Par. (at the door, speaking to Scirtus within.) If the old 

man should be asking for me, do you say that I have just 
gone to the harbour to enquire about the arrival of Pam- 
philus. Do you hear what I say, Scirtus ? If he asks for- 
me, then you are to say so ; if he does not, why, say nothing 
at all; so that at another time I may be able to employ 
that excuse as a new one. (Comes forward, and looking 
around.) — But is it my dear Philotis that I see ? How 
has she come here ? (Accosting her.) Philotis, heartily good 
morrow. 

Phil. O, good morrow, Parmeno. 

Syr, By my troth, good morrow, Parmeno. 

Par. Plait h, Syra, the same to you. Philotis, tell me, 
where have you been enjoying yourself so long ? 

Phil. Por my part, indeed, I have been far from enjoying 
myself, in leaving this place for Corinth with a most brutal 
captain ; for two whole years, there, had I to put up with 
liim to my sorrow. 

Par. Ptroth, I fancy that regret for Athens full oft pos- 



262 hecyra; Act I. 

sessed you, and that you thought but poorly of your 
foresight. 

Phil. It cannot be expressed how impatient I was to 
return hither, get rid of the captain, and see yourselves here, 
that after our old fashion I might at my ease enjoy the 
merry-makings among you ; for there it was not allowed me 
to speak, except at the moment prescribed, and on such sub- 
jects as he chose. 

Par. {sarcastically) I don't think it was gallant in the 
captain to place a restraint on your tongue. 

Phil. But what is this piece of business that Bacchis 
has just now been telling me in-doors here ? {pointing to Tier 
house.) A thing I never supposed would come to pass, that 
he, in her lifetime, could possibly prevail upon his feelings 
to take a wife. 

Par. To take, indeed ! 

Phil. Why, look you, has he not taken one ? 

Par. He has; but I doubt whether this match will be 
lasting. 

Phil. May the Gods and Goddesses grant it so, if it is for 
the advantage of Bacchis. But why am I to believe it is so ? 
Tell me, Parmeno. 

Par. There is no need for its being spread abroad; ask me 
no more about it. 

Phil. For fear, I suppose, it may be made public. So 
may the Gods prosper me, I do not ask you in order that 
I may spread it abroad, but that, in silence, I may rejoice 
within myself. 

Par. You'll never speak me so fairly, that I shall trust my 
back to your discretion. 

Phil. Oh, don't say so, Parmeno ; l as though you were not 
much more impatient to tell me this, than I to learn what 
I'm enquiring about. 

Par. {to himself.) She tells the truth there ; and that is 
my greatest failing. {To Philotis.) If you give me your 
word that you'll keep it a secret, I'll tell you. 

1 Don't say so, Parmeno) — Ver. 109. She says this ironically, at the 
game time intimating that she knows Parmeno too well, not to be sure 
that he is as impatient to impart the secret to her as she is to know it. 
Donatus remarks, that she pretends she has no curiosity to hear it, that 
he may deem her the more worthy to be entrusted with the secret. 



Sc. II. THE MOTHER-IX-LAW. 263 

Phil. You are now returning to your natural disposition. 
I give you rny word; say on. 

Pae. Listen. 

Phil. I'm ail attention. 

Par. Pamphilus was in the height of his passion for Bac- 
chis here, when his father began to importune him to take 
a wife, and to urge those points which are usual with all 
fathers, that he hi?nself w&$ now in years, and that he was his 
only son, that he wished for a support for his declining years. 
He refused at first. But on his father pressing more urgently, 
he caused him to become wavering in his mind, whether to 
yield rather to duty or to love. By hammering on and teazing 
him, at last the old man gained his point ; and betrothed him 
to the daughter of our next door neighbour here {'pointing to 
the house of Phidippus.) This did not seem so very disagree- 
able to Pamphilus, until on the very point of marriage, when 
he saw that all was ready, and that no respite was granted, 
but marry he must; then, at last, he took it so much to 
lieart, that I do believe if Bacchis had been present, even she 
would have pitied him. Whenever opportunity was afforded 
for us being alone, so that he could converse with me, he used 
to say : " Parmeno, I am ruined ! What have I done ! Into 
what misery have I plunged myself ! Parmeno, I shall never 
Ibe able to endure this. To my misery, I am undone!" 

Phil, (vehemently exclaiming.) May the Gods and God- 
desses confound y ou, Laches, for vexing him so ! 

Par. To cut the matter short, he took home his wife. On 
the first night, he did not touch the girl; the night that 
followed that, not a bit the more. 

Phil. What is it you tell me ? A young man go to bed 
with a virgin, intoxicated to boot, and able to restrain him- 
self from touching her ! You do not say what's likely; nor 
do I believe it to be the truth. 

Par. I suppose it does seem so to you, for no one comes to 
you unless he is eager for you; but he had married her 
against his will. 

Phil. After this, what followed ? 

Par. In a very few days after, Pamphilus took me aside, 
away from the house, and told me how that the young woman 
was still untouched by him; and how that before he had 
taken her home as his wife, he had hoped to be able to endure 



264 hecyra; Act I. 

this marriage : " But, Parmeno, as I cannot resolve to live 
with, her any longer, it is neither honorable in me, nor of 
advantage to the young woman herself, for her to be turned 
to ridicule, but rather I ought to return her to her relations 
just as I received her." 

Phil. You tell me of a conscientious and virtuous disposi- 
tion in Pamphilus. 

Par. " Por me to declare this, I consider to be inconvenient 
to me, but for her to be sent back to her father without men- 
tioning any blame, would be insolent ; but I am in hopes 
that she, when she is sensible that she cannot live with me, 
will go at last of her own accord.'"' 

Phil. What did he do in the meanwhile ? Used he to visit 
Bacchis ? 

Par. Every day. But as usually is the case, after she saw 
that he belonged to another, she immediately became more 
ill-natured and more peevish. 

Phil. I' faith, that's not to be wondered at. 

Par. And this circumstance in especial contributed to 
estrange him from her; after he had fairly examined himself, 
and her, and the one that was at home, he formed a judgment, 
by comparison, upon the principles of them both. She, just 
as might be expected from a person of respectable and free 
birth, chaste mid virtuous, patient under the slights and all 
the insults of her husband, and concealing his affronts. Upon 
this, his mind, partly overcome by compassion for his wife, 
partly constrained by the insolence of the other, was gra- 
dually estranged from Bacchis, and transferred its affections 
to the other, after having found a congenial disposition. In 
the meantime, there dies at Imbros, 1 an old man, a relative of 
theirs. His property there devolved on them by law. 
Thither his father drove the love-sick Pamphilus, much 
against his will. He left his wife here with his mother, for 
the old man has retired into the country; he seldom comes 
into the city. 

Phil. What is there yet in this marriage to prevent its 
being lasting ? 

Par. You shall hear just now. At first, for several days, 
there really was a good understanding between them. In the 

1 Imbros)— Yer. 171. An island in the iEgean sea, off the coast of 
Thrace. 



Sc. II. THE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 265 

meantime, however, in a strange way, she began to take a 
dislike to Sostrata; nor yet was there ever any quarrel or 
words between them. 

Phil. What then ? 

Par. If at any time she came to converse with her, she 
would instantly withdraw from her presence, 1 and refuse to 
see her; in fine, when she could no longer endure her, she 
pretended that she was sent for by her mother to assist at 
a sacrifice. When she had been there a few days, Sostrata 
ordered her to be fetched. She made some, I know not what, 
excuse. Again she gave similar orders; no one sent back any 
excuse. After she had sent for her repeatedly, they pre- 
tended that the damsel was sick. My mistress immediately 
went to see her; no one admitted her. On the old man 
coming to know of this, he yesterday came up from the 
country on purpose, and waited immediately upon the father 
of Philmnena. What passed between them, I do not know 
as yet ; but really I do feel some anxiety in what way this 
is to end. You now have the whole matter ; and I shall pro- 
ceed whither I was on my way. 

Phil. And I too, for I made an appointment with a certain. 
stranger 2 to meet him. 

Par. May the Gods prosper what you undertake ! 

Phil. Farewell! 

Par. And a kind farewell to you, my dear Philotis. 

(Exeunt severally. 

1 From her presence) — Yer. 1S2. For the purpose, as will afterwards; 
appear, of not letting Sostrata see that she was pregnant. 

2 With a certain stranger) — Yer. 195. Here Philotis gives a reason,. 
as Donatus observes, why she does not again appear in the Play. The 
following is an extract from Colman's remarks on this passage : " It 
were to be wished, for the sake of the credit of our author's acknowledged 
art in the Drama, that Philotis had assigned as good a reason for her 
appearing at all. Eugraphius justly says: ' The Courtesan in thi& 
Scene is a character quite foreign to the fable.' Donatus also says muck 
the same thing in his Preface, and in his first Xote to this Comedy; but, 
adds that ' Terence chose this method rather than to relate the argu- 
ment by means of a Prologue, or to introduce a God speaking from a> 
machine. I will venture to say that the Poet might have taken a muck 
shorter and easier method than either; I mean, to have begun the Play 
with the very Scene which now opens the Second Act.' " 



266 HECYR A ; Act II 

ACT THE SECOND. 

Scene I. 1 

'Enter Laches and Sostrata, from the house of the former. 

Lach. O faith of Gods and men! what a race is this! 
what a conspiracy this ! that all women should desire and 
reject every individual thing alike ! And not a single one 
can you find to swerve in any respect from the disposition of 
the rest. For instance, quite as though with one accord, do all 
mothers-in-law hate their daughters-in-law. Just in the same 
way is it their system to oppose their husbands ; their 
obstinacy here is the same. In the very same school they all 
seem to me to have been trained up to perverseness. Of 
that school, if there is any mistress, I am very sure that she 
{pointing at Sostrata) it is. 

Sos. Wretched me ! when now I don't so much as know 
why I am accused ! 

Lach. Eh ! you don't know ? 

Sos. So may the Gods kindly prosper me, Laches, and so 
may it be allowed us to pass our lives together in unity ! 

Lach. {aside.) May the Gods avert such a misfortune! 

Sos. I'm sure that before long you will be sensible that I 
liave been accused by you undeservedly. 

Lach. You, undeservedly ? Can anything possibly be 
said that you deserve in return for this conduct of yours ? 

1 Scene I.) — Colman has the following observations on this Scene : 
" Donatus remarks that this Scene opens the intention of Terence to 
oppose the generally-received opinion, and to draw the character of a 
good step-mother. It would, therefore, as has been already observed, 
have been a very proper Scene to begin the Play, as it carries us imme- 
diately into the midst of things ; and we cannot fail to be interested 
when we see the persons acting so deeply interested themselves. We 
gather from it just so much of the story as is necessary for our informa- 
tion at first setting out. AVe are told of the abrupt departure of Philu- 
mena, and are witnesses of the confusion in the two families of Laches 
and Phidippus. The absence of Laches, which had been in great mea- 
sure the occasion of this misunderstanding, is also very artfully men- 
tioned in the altercation between him and Sostrata. The character of 
Laches is very naturally drawn. He has a good heart, and a testy dis- 
position, and the poor old gentleman is kept in such constant perplexity 
that he has perpetual occasion to exert both those qualities." 



Sc. I. THE MOTHEE-IX-LAW. 267 

You, who are disgracing "both me and yourself and the family, 
and are laying up sorrow for your son. Then besides, you 
are making our connexions become,, from friends, enemies 
to us, who have thought him deserving for them to entrust 
their children 1 to him. You alone have put yourself for- 
ward, bv your follv, to be causing this disturbance. 

Sos. What, I : * 

Lach. You, woman, I say, who take me to be a stone, not 
a man. Do you think because it's my habit to be so much 
in the country, that I don't know in what way each person 
is passing his life here ? I know much better what is going 
on here than there, where I am daily ; for this reason, be- 
cause, just as you act at home, I am spoken of abroad. 
Some time since, indeed, I heard that Philumena had taken 
a dislike to you ; nor did I the least wonder at it ; indeed, if 
she hadn't done so, it would have been more surprising. But 
I did not suppose that she would have gone so far as to hate 
even the whole of the family; if I had known that, she should 
have remained here in preference, and you should have gone 
away. But consider how undeservedly these vexations arise 
on your account, Sostrata ; I went to live in the country, in 
compliance with your request, and to look after my affairs, 
in order that my circumstances might be able to support 
your lavishness and comforts, not sparing my own exertions, 
beyond what's reasonable and my time of life allows. That 
you should take no care, in return for all this, that there 
should be nothing to vex me ! 

Sos. Upon my word, through no means or fault of mine 
has this taken place. 

Lach. Nay, through you in especial ; you were the only 
person here ; on you alone, Sostrata, falls all the blame. You 
ousfht to have taken care of matters here, as I had released vou 
from other anxieties. Is it not a disgrace for an old woman 
to pick a quarrel with a girl ? You will say it was her fault. 

Sos. Indeed I do not say so, my dear Laches. 

Lach. I am glad of that, so may the Gods prosper me, for 
my son's sake. I am quite sure of this, that no fault of 
yours can possibly put you in a worse light. 

Sos. How do you know, my husband, whether she may 

1 Entrust their children) — Yer. 212. The plural "liberos," children, 
is used where only one is being spoken of, similarly, in the Heautonti- 
morumenos, 1. 151. 



268 HECYRA Act II. 

not have pretended to dislike me, on purpose that she might 
be more with her mother ? 

Lach. What say you to this ? Is it not proof sufficient, 
when yesterday no one was willing to admit you into the 
house, when you went to see her ? 

Sos. Why, they told me that she was very ill just then; 
for that reason I was not admitted to her. 

Lach. I fancy that your humours are more her malady 
than anything else ; and with good reason in fact, for there 
is not one of you but wants her son to take a wife ; and 
the match which has taken your fancy must be the one ; 
when, at your solicitation, they have married, then, at your 
solicitation, they are to put them away again. 

Scene II. 

Enter Phidippus from his house. 

Phid, {speaking to Philumena ivithin.) Although I am 
aware, Philumena, that I have the right to compel you to do 
what I order, still, being swayed by the feelings of a father, 
I will prevail upon myself to yield to you, and not oppose 
your inclination. 

Lach. And look, most opportunely I see Phidippus ; I'll 
presently know from him how it is. (Accosting him.) Phidip- 
pus, although I am aware that I am particularly indulgent to 
all my family, still it is not to that degree to let my good 
nature corrupt their minds. And if you would do the same, 
it would be more for your own interest and ours. At present 
I see that you are under the control of those women. 

Phid. Just look at that, now ! 

Lach. I waited on you yesterday about your daughter; 
you sent me away just as wise as I came. It does not become 
you, if you wish this alliance to continue, to conceal your 
resentment. If there is any fault on our side, disclose it; 
either by clearing ourselves, or excusing it, we shall remedy 
these matters for you, yourself the judge. But if this is the 
cause of detaining her at your house, because she is ill, then 
I think that you do me an injustice, Phidippus, if you are 
afraid lest she should not be attended with sufficient care at 
my house. But, so may the Gods prosper me, I do not yield 
in this to you, although you are her father, that you can wish 
her well more than I do, and that on my son's account, who I 



Sc. III. THE MOTHER-IX-LAW. 269 

know values her not less than his own self. Nor, in fact, is 
it unknown to you, how much, as I believe, it will vex him, 
if he conies to know 1 of this ; for this reason, I wish to have 
her home, before he returns. 

Phid. Laches, I am sensible of both your carefulness and 
your good- will, and I am persuaded that all you say is just- 
as you say : and I would have you believe me in this ; I am 
anxious for her to return to you, if I possibly can by any 
means effect it. 

Lack. What is it prevents you from effecting it ? Come, 
now, does she make any complaint against her husband ? 

Phid. By no means \ for when I urged it still more strongly, 
and attempted to constrain her by force to return, she 
solemnly protested that she couldn't possibly remain with 
you, while Pamphilus was absent. Probably each has his own 
failing ; I am naturally of an indulgent disposition ; I cannot 
thwart my own family. 

Lach. (turning to his tcife, who stands apart.) Ha ! Sos- 
trata ! 2 

Sos. (sighing deeply) Alas! wretched me! 

Lach. (to Phjdippus.) Is this your final determination ? 

Phid. Por the present, at least, as it seems ; but have you 
anything else to say ? for 1 have some business that obliges 
me to go at once to the Porum. 

Lach. I'll go with you. (Exeunt. 

Scene III. 

Sostrata alone. 

Sos. Upon my faith, we assuredly are all of us hated by 
our husbands with equal injustice, on account of a few, who 

1 If he comes to Jcnoiv) — Yer. 262. Bonatus observes that the Poet 
shows his art in here preparing a reason to be assigned by Pamphilus 
for bis pretended discontent at the departure of his wife. 

2 Ha ! Sostrata) — Yer. 271. Colman observes on this passage: "This 
is extremely artful. The answer of Philumena, as related by Phidippus, 
contains an ample vindication of Pamphilus. "What, then, can we sup- 
pose could make the house so disagreeable to her in his absence, but the 
behaviour of Sostrata] She declares her innocence; yet appearances 
are all against her. Supposing this to be the first Act of the Play, it 
would be impossible for a Comedy to open in a more interesting 
manner." 



270 hecyra; Act III. 

cause us all to appear deserving of harsh treatment. For, 
so may the Gods prosper me, as to what my husband accuses 
me of, I am quite guiltless. But it is not so easy to clear 
myself, so strongly have people come to the conclusion that 
all step-mothers are harsh : i'faith, not I, indeed, for I never 
regarded her otherwise than if she had been my own daughter; 
nor can I conceive how this has befallen me. But really, 
for many reasons, I long for my son's return home with im- 
patience. (Goes into her house.) 



ACT THE THIRD. 
Scene I. 

Enter Pamphilus and Parmeno. 

Pam. No individual, I do believe, ever met with more 
crosses in love than I. Alas ! unhappy me ! that I have 
thus been sparing of life ! Was it for this I was so very 
impatient to return home ? O, how much more preferable 
had it been for me to pass my life anywhere in the world 
than to return here and be sensible that I am thus wretched! 
For all of us know who have met with trouble from any 
cause, that all the time that passes before we come to the 
knowledge of it, is so much gain. 

Par. Still, as it is, you'll the sooner know how to extricate 
yourself from these misfortunes. If you had not returned, 
this breach might have become much wider ; but now, Pam- 
philus, I am sure that both will be awed by your presence. 
You will learn the facts, remove their enmity, restore them 
to good feeling once again. These are but trifles which you 
have persuaded yourself are so grievous. 

Pam. Why comfort me? Is there a person in all the 
world so wretched as I? Before I took her to wife, I had 
my heart engaged by other affections. Now, though on 
this subject I should be silent, it is easy for any one to 
know how much I have suffered ; yet I never dared refuse 
her whom my father forced upon me. With difficulty did I 
withdraw myself from another, and disengage my affections 
so firmly rooted there ! and hardly had I fixed them in 
another quarter, when, lo ! a new misfortune has arisen, which 



Sc. I. THE MOTHER-IX-LAW. 271 

may tear me from her too. Then besides, I suppose that in 
this matter I shall find either my mother or my wife in fault ; 
and when I find such to be the fact, what remains but 
to become still more wretched ? For duty, Parmeno, bids 
me bear with the feelings of a mother ; then, to my wife I 
am bound by obligations ; with so much temper did she 
formerly bear my usage, and on no occasion disclose the 
many wrongs inflicted on her by me. But, Parmeno, some- 
thing of consequence, I know not what it is, must have 
happened for this misunderstanding to have arisen between 
them, that has lasted so long. 

Par. Or else something frivolous, i' faith, if you would only 
give words their proper value ; those which are sometimes 
the greatest enmities, do not argue the greatest injuries ; 
for it often happens that in certain circumstances, in which 
another would not even be out of temper, for the very same 
reason a passionate man becomes your greatest enemy. What 
enmities do children entertain among themselves for trifling 
injuries ! For what reason ? Why, because they have a weak 
understanding to direct them. Just so are these women, 
almost like children with their fickle feelings ; perhaps a 
single word has occasioned this enmity between them, master. 

Pam. Go. Parmeno, into the house, and carry word l that I 
have arrived. 

(A noise is heard in the house o/Phidippus.) 

Par. {starting.) Ha ! What means this ? 

Pam. Be silent. I perceive a bustling about, and a run- 
ning to and fro. 

Par. {going to the door) Come then, I'll approach nearer 
to the door. {He listens) Ha ! did you hear ? 

Pam. Don't be prating. {He listens.) Jupiter, I heard 
a shriek ! 

Par. You yourself are talking, while you forbid me. 

Myr. (within the house.) Prithee, my child, do be silent. 

Pam. That seems to be the voice of Philumena's mother, 
I'm undone ! 

Par. Why so? 

Pam. Utterly ruined ! 

1 And carry word) — Ten 314. It was a custom with the Greeks and 
Komans, when returning from abroad, to send a messenger before them, 
to inform their wives of their arrival. 



272 hecyra; Act III. 

Pae. For what reason ? 

Pam. Parmeno, you are concealing from me some great 
misfortune to me unknown. 

Par. They said that your wife, Philumena, was in alarm 
about * something, I know not what ; whether that may be 
it, perchance, I don't know. 

Pam. I am undone ! Why didn't you tell me of this ? 

Par. Because I couldn't tell everything at once. 

Pam. What is the malady ? 

Par. I don't know. 

Pam. What ! has no one brought a physician to see Tier ? 

Par. I don't know. 

Pam. Why delay going in-doors, that I may know as soon 
as possible for certain what it is ? In what condition, Phi- 
lumena, am I now to find you? But if you are in any peril, 
beyond a doubt I will perish with you. (Goes into the house 
of Phidippus.) 

Scene II. 

Parmeno alone. 

Par. (to himself.) There is no need for me to follow him 
into the house at present, for I see that we are all dis- 
agreeable to them. Yesterday, no one would give Sostrata 
admittance. If, perchance, the malady should become 
worse, which really I could far from wish, for my mas- 
ter's sake especially, they would at once say that Sostrata's 
servant had been in there ; they would invent a story that I 
had brought some mischief against their lives and persons, in 
consequence of which the malady had been increased. My 
mistress would be blamed, and I should incur heavy punish- 
ment. 2 

1 Was in alarm about) — Yer. 321. u Pavitare." Casaubonhas a curious 
suggestion here ; he thinks it not improbable that he had heard the female 
servants whispering among themselves that Philumena "paritare," "was 
about to be brought to bed," which he took for "pavitare," "was in fear" 
of something. 

2 Heavy punishment) — Yer. 335. Probably meaning that he will be 
examined by torture, whether he has not, by drugs or other means, con- 
tributed to Philumena's illness. 



Sc. III. THE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 273 

Scene III. 
Enter Sostrata. 

Sos. (to herself.) In dreadful alarm, I have for some time 
heard, I know not what confusion going on here ; I'm sadly 
afraid Philumena's illness is getting worse, -ZEsculapius, I 
do entreat thee, and thee, Health, 1 that it may not be so. 
Now I'll go visit her. (Approaches the door.) 

Par. {coming forward.) Hark you, Sostrata. 

Sos. (turning round.) Well. 

Par. You will again be shut out there. 

Sos. What, Parmeno, is it you ? I'm undone ! wretch 
that I am, what shall I do ? Am I not to go see the wife of 
Pamphilus, when she is ill here next door ? 

Par. Not go see her ! Don't even send any person for the 
purpose of seeing her; for I'm of opinion that he who loves 
a person to whom he is an object of dislike, commits a 
double mistake : he himself takes a useless trouble, and causes 
annoyance to the other. Besides, your son went in to see 
how she is, as soon as he arrived. 

Sos. What is it you say ? Has Pamphilus arrived ? 

Par. He has. 

Sos. I give thanks unto the Gods! Well, through that 
news my spirits are revived, and anxiety has departed from 
my heart. 

Par. For this reason, then, I am especially unwilling you 
should go in there ; for if Philumena's malady at all abates, 
she will, I am sure, when they are by themselves, at once tell 
him all the circumstances ; both what misunderstandings 
have arisen between you, and how the difference first began. 
But see, he's coming out — how sad he looks ! 

1 And thee, Health) — Yer. 338. She invokes iEsculapius, the God of 
Medicine, and "Salus," or "Health," because, in Greece, their statues 
were always placed near each other ; so that to have offered prayers to 
one and not to the other, would have been deemed a high indignity. 
On the worship of iEsculapius, see the opening Scene of the Curculio of 
Plautus. 



274 hecyra; Act III. 



Scene IV. 
Re-enter Pamphilus, from the house of Phidippus. 

Sos. {running up to him.) my son ! (Embraces him.) 

Pam, My mother, blessings on you. 

Sos. I rejoice that you are returned safe. Is Philumena 
in a fair way ? 

Pam. She is a little better. ( Weeping.) 

Sos. Would that the Gods may grant it so ! Why. then, 
do you weep, or why so dejected ? 

Pam. Alls well, mother. 

Sos. What meant that confusion ? Tell me , was she sud- 
denly taken ill ? 

Pam. Such was the fact. 

Sos. What is her malady ? 

Pam. A fever. 

Sos. An intermitting one P 1 

Pam. So they say. Go in the house, please, mother; I'll 
follow you immediately. 

Sos. Very well (Goes into her house.) 

Pam. Do you run and meet the servant s, Parmeno, and 
help them with the baggage. 

Par. Why, don't they know the way themselves to come 
io our house ? 

Pam. (stamping.) Do you loiter? (En£ Parmeno. 



Scene V. 

Pamphilus, alone. 

Pam. I cannot discover any fitting commencement of my 
troubles, at which to begin to narrate the things that have 
so unexpectedly befallen me, some of which with these eyes 
I have beheld ; some I have heard with my ears ; and on 
account of which I so hastily betook myself, in extreme 
agitation, out of doors. For just now, when, full of alarm, I 
rushed into the house, expecting to find my wife afilicted 
with some other malady than what I have found it to be ; — 
ah me ! immediately the servant-maids beheld that I had 

1 An intermitting one) — Yer. 357. " Quotidiana ;" literally, "daily." 



Sc. V. THE MOTHEB-IX-LAW. 275 

arrived, they all at the same moment joyfully exclaimed, 
" He is come," from having so suddenly caught sight of me. 
But I soon perceived the countenances of all of them change, 1 
because at so unseasonable a juncture chance had brought 
me there. One of them in the meantime hastily ran before 
me to give notice that I had come. Impatient to see my 
wife, I followed close. When I entered the room, that 
instant, to my sorrow, I found out her malady; for neither 
did the time afford any interval to enable her to conceal it, 
nor could she complain in any other accents than those icMch 
the case itself prompted. When I perceived tliis : u O dis- 
graceful conduct!" I exclaimed, and instantly hurried away 
from the spot in tears, overwhelmed by such an incredible 
and shocking circumstance. Her mother followed me; just 
as I got to the threshold, she threw herself on her knees : 
I felt compassion for her. Assuredly it is the fact, in my 
opinion, just as matters befall us all, so are we elated or 
depressed. At once, she began to address me in these 
words : " O my dear Pamphilus, you see the reason why 
she left your house ; for violence was offered to her when 
formerly a maid, by some villain to us unknown. Now, she 
took refuge here then, that from you and others she might 
conceal her labour." But when I call to mind her entreaties, 
I cannot, wretched as 1 am, refrain from tears. " Whatever 
chance or fortune it is," said she, " which has brought you 
here to-day, by it we do both conjure you, if with equity 
and justice we may, that her misfortune may be concealed 
by you, and kept a secret from all. If ever you were 
sensible, my dear Pamphilus, that she was tenderly disposed 
towards you, she now asks you to grant her this favour in 
return, without making any difficulty of it. But as to 
taking her back, act quite according to your own con- 
venience. You alone are aware of her lying-in, arid that 
the child is none of yours. For it is said that it was two 
months after the marriage before she had commerce with you. 
And then, this is but the seventh month since she came to 
you. 2 That you are sensible of this, the circumstances them- 

1 All of them change) — Ver. 369. This must have been imaginary, 
as they were not likely to be acquainted with the reason of Philumena's 
apprehensions. 

a Since she came to you) — Yer. 394. There is great doubt what is the 

T 2 



276 HEC YE a ; Act III. 

selves prove. Now, if it is possible, Pamphilus, I especially 
wish, and will use my endeavours, that her labour may remain 
unknown to her father, and to all, in fact. But if that 
cannot be managed, and they do find it out, I will say 
that she miscarried ; I am sure no one will suspect otherwise 
than, what is so likely, the child was by you. It shall be 
instantly exposed ; in that case there is no inconvenience 
whatever to yourself, and you will be concealing an outrage 
so undeservingly committed upon her, 1 poor thing !" I pro- 
mised this, and I am resolved to keep faith in what I said. 
But as to taking her back, really I do not think that 
would be at all creditable, nor will I do so, although love for 
her, and habit, have a strong influence upon me. I weep 
when it occurs to my mind, what must be her life, and ho to 
great her loneliness in future. O Fortune, thou hast never 
been found constant ! But by this time my former passion 
has taught me experience in the present case. The means 
by which I got rid of that, I must employ on the present 
occasion. Parmeno is coming with the servants ; it is far 
from convenient that he should be here under present cir- 
cumstances, for he was the only person to whom I trusted the 
secret that I kept aloof from her when I first married her. I 
am afraid lest, if he should frequently hear her cries, he might 
find out that she is in labour. He must be dispatched by 
me somewhere till Philumena is delivered. 

exact meaning of "postquam ad te venit/*' here, — whether it means, "it 
is now the seventh month since she became your wife," or, " it is now the 
seventh month since she came to your embraces," which did not happen 
for two months after the marriage. The former is, under the circum- 
stances, the most probable construction. 

1 Committed upon her) — Yer. 401. Col man very justly observes here : 
" It is rather extraordinary that Myrrhina's account of the injury done 
to her daughter should not put Pamphilus in mind of his own adventure, 
which comes out in the Fifth Act. It is certain that had the Poet let 
the Audience into that secret in this place, they would have immediately 
concluded that the wife of Pamphilus and the lady whom he had 
ravished were one and the same person." Playwrights have never, in 
any age or country, troubled themselves much about probability in their 
plots. Besides, his adventure with Philumena was by no means an 
uncommon one. We find similar instances mentioned by Plautus; and 
violence and debauchery seem almost to have reigned paramount in 
the streets at night. 



Sc. VI. THE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 277 



Scene VI. 

Enter at a distance Par^iexo and Sosia, with people 
carrying haggage. 

Par. (to Sosia.) Do you say that this voyage was disagree- 
able to you ? 

Sosia. Upon my faith. Parmeno, it cannot be so much as 
expressed in words, how disagreeable it is to go on a voyage. 

Par. Do you say so ? 

Sosia. O lucky man ! You don't know what evils you have 
escaped^ by never having been at sea. For to say nothing 
of other hardships, mark this one only; thirty days or more 1 
was I on board that ship, and every moment, to my horror, 
was in continual expectation of death : such unfavourable 
weather did we always meet with. 

Par, How annoying ! 

Sosia. That's not unknown to me : in fine, upon my faith, 
I would rather run away than go back, if I knew that I 
should have to go back there. 

Par. Why really, but slight causes formerly made you, 
Sosia, do what now you are threatening to do. But I see 
Pamphilus himself standing before the door. (To the Atten- 
dants, who go into the house of Laches.) Go in doors; I'll 
accost him, to see if he wants anything with me. (Accosts 
Pamphilus.) What, still standing here, master ? 

Pail Yes, and waiting for you. 

Par. What's the mate .er? 

Pam You must run across to the citadel. 2 

Par. Who must ? 

Pail You. 

Par. To the citadel ? Why thither ? 

Pam. To meet Callidemides, my entertainer at Myconos, 
who came over in the same ship with me. 

Par. (aside.) Confusion! I should say he has made a vow 

1 Thirty days or more) — Yer. 421. In his voyage from Imbros to 
Athens, namely, which certainly appears to have been unusually long. 

- To the citadel) — Yer. 431. "This was the fort or citadel that defended 
the Piraeus, and being three miles distant from the city, was better 
suited for the design of Pamphilus, whose object it was to keep Parmeno 
for some time at a distance. 



278 hecyra; Act III. 

that if ever he should return home safe, he would rupture 
me * with walking. 

Pam. Why are you lingering ? 

Par. What do you wish me to say ? Or am I to meet him 
only ? 

Pam. No ; say that I cannot meet him to-day, as I 
appointed, so that he may not wait for me to no nurpose. 
Fly! 

Par. But I don't know the man's appearance. 

Pam. Then I'll tell you how to know it ; a huge fellow, 
ruddy, with curly hair, fat, with grey eyes and freckled 
countenance. 

Par. May the Gods confound him ! What if he shouldn't 
come ? Am I to wait there, even till the evening ? 

Pam. Yes, wait there. Pun ! 

Par. I can't ; I am so tired. {Exit slowly. 

Scene YII. 

Pamphilus, alone. 

Pam. He's off. What shall I do in this distressed situa- 
tion ? Peally, I don't know in what way I'm to conceal 
this, as Myrrhina entreated me, her daughter's ly'ng-in; but 
I do pity the woman. What I can, I'll do ; only bo long, how- 
ever, as I observe my duty ; for it is proper that I should be 
regardful of a parent, 2 rather than of my passion. But look — 
I see Phidippus and my father. They are coming this way ; 
what to say to them, I'm at a loss. (Stands apart?) 

Scene VIII. 

Enter, at a distance, Laches and Phidippus. 

Lach. Did you not say, just now, that she was waiting for 
my son's return ? 

1 Hewoidd rujrture me) — Ver. 435. He facetiously pretends to think 
that Pamphilus may, during a storm at sea, have vowed to walk him to 
death, if he should return home. 

2 Regardful of a parent) — Yer. 448. Colman observes here : "This 
reflection seems to be rather improper in this place, for the discovery of 
Philumena's labour betrayed to Pamphilus the real motive of her depar- 
ture ; after which discovery his anxiety proceeds entirely from the sup- 
posed injury offered him, and his filial piety is from that period made 
use of merely as a pretence/' 



Sc. VIII. THE MOTHER-IX-LAW. 279 

Phid. Just SO. 

Lach. They say that he has arrived • let her return. 

Pa3I. {apart to himself, aloud) What excuse to make to my 
father for not taking her back, I don't know ! 

Lach. {turning round.) Who was it I heard speaking 
here ? 

Pam. {apart.) I am resolved to persevere in the course I 
determined to pursue. 

Lach. 'Tis the very person about whom I was talking to 
you. 

Pam. Health to you, my father. 

Lach. Health to you, my son. 

Phid. I am glad that you have returned, Pamphilus, and 
the more especially so, as you are safe and well. 

Pam. I believe you. 

Lach. Have you but just arrived ? 

Pam. Only just now. 

Lach. Tell me. what has our cousin Phania left us ? 

Pam. Why really, f faith, he was a man very much devoted 
to pleasure while he lived ; and those who are so, don't 
much benefit their heirs, but for themselves leave this com- 
mendation : While he lived, he lived well. 1 

Lach. So then, you have brought home nothing more 2 
than a single sentiment ? 

Pam. Whatever he has left, we are the gainers by it. 

Lach. Why no, it has proved a loss; for I could have 
wished him alive and well. 

Phid. You may wish that with impunity ; he'll never 
come to life again ; and after all I know which of the two 
you would prefer. 

Lach. Yesterday, he {pointing to Phidippus) desired Philu- 
mena to be fetched to his house. {Wliispers to Phidippus, 
nudging him icith his elbow.) Say that you desired it. 

1 He lived icelT) — Yer. 461. This is living well in the sense used by 
the " Friar of orders grey/' " Who leads a good life is sure to live 
well." 

- Brought home nothing more) — Yer. 462. Colman remarks that this 
passage is taken notice of by Donatus as a particularly happy stroke of 
character; and indeed the idea of a covetous old man gaping for a fat 
legacy,, and having his mouth stopped by a moral precept, is truly 
comic. 



280 hectra; Act III. 

Phid. (aside to Laches.) Don't punch me so. (To Pah- 

philus.) I desired it. 

Lach. But he'll now send her home again. 

Phid. Of course. 

Pam. I know the whole affair, and how it happened; I 
heard it just now, on my arrival. 

Lach. Then may the Gods confound those spiteful people 
who told this news with such readiness ! 

Pam:. (to Phidippus.) I am sure that it has been my study. 
that with reason no slight might possibly be committed by 
your family ; and if I were now truthful to mention of how 
faithful, loving, and tender a disposition I have proved 
towards her, I could do so truly, did I not rather wish 
that you should learn it of herself; for by that method, you 
will be the more ready to place confidence in my disposition 
when she, who is now acting unjustly towards me, speaks 
favourably of me. And that through no fault of mine this 
separation has taken place, I call the Gods to witness. But 
since she considers that it is not befitting her to give way to 
my mother, and with readiness to conform to her temper, 
and as on no other terms it is possible for good feeling to 
exist between them, either my mother must be separated, 
Phidippus. from me, or else Philumena. Xow affection urges 
me rather to consult my mother's pleasure. 

Lach. Pamphilus, your words have readied my ears not 
otherwise than to my satisfaction, since I find that you post- 
pone all considerations for your parent. But take care, Pam- 
philus. lest impelled by resentment, you cany matters too far. 

Pam. How, impelled by resentment, could I now be biassed 
against her who never has been guilty of anything towards 
me, father, that I could not wish, and who has often deserved 
as well as I could desire ? I both love and praise and exceed- 
ingly regret her, for I have found by experience that she was 
of a wondrously engaging disposition with regard to myself ; 
and I sincerely wish that she may spend the remainder of 
her life with a husband who may prove more fortunate than 
me, since necessity thus tears her from me. 

Phid. 'Tis in your own power to prevent that. 

Lach. If you are in your senses, order her to come back. 

Pam. It is not my intention, father; I shall study my 
mothers interests. (Going away.) 



Sc. X. THE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 281 

Lach. Whither are you going? Stay, stay, I tell you; 
whither are you going ? (Exit Pamphilus. 

Scene IX. 
Laches and Phidippus. 

Phid. What obstinacy is this ? 

Lach. Did I not tell you, Phidippus, that he would take 
this matter amiss ? It was for that reason I entreated you 
to send your daughter back. 

Phid. Upon my faith, I did not believe he would be so 
brutish; does he now fancy that I shall come begging to 
him ? If so it is that he chooses to take back his wife, why, 
let Mm; if he is of another mind, let him pay back her 
portion, 1 and take himself off. 

Lach. Just look at that, now ; you too are getting obstinate 
and huffish. 

Phid. (speaking with anger.) You have returned to us in a 
very ungovernable mood, Pamphilus. 

Lach. This anger will depart ; although he has some reason 
for being vexed. 

Phid. Because you have had a windfall, a little money, 
your minds are elevated. 

Lach. Are you going to fall out with me, too ? 

Phid. Let him consider, and bring me word to-day, whether 
he will or will not, that she may belong to another if she 
does not to him. (Goes hastily into Ms own house.) 

Lach. Phidippus, stay ; listen to a few words 

Scene X. 
Laches, alone. 

Lach. He's off; what matters it to me? In fine, let them 
manage it between themselves, just as they please; since 
neither my son nor he pay any regard to me ; they care but 
little for what I say. Ill carry the quarrel to my wife, by 
whose planning all these things have been brought about, and 
against her I will vent all the vexation that I feel. 

1 Pay bach her portion) — Ver. 502. As was universally done on a sepa- 
ration by agreement. 



282 hecyra; Act IV. 

ACT THE FOURTH. 

Scene I. 

Enter Myrrhina, from Tier house. 

Myr. I am undone ! What am I to do ? which way turn 
myself ? In my wretchedness, what answer am I to give to 
my husband ? For he seems to have heard the voice of the 
child when crying, so suddenly did he rush in to my daughter 
without saying a word. What if he comes to know that 
she has been delivered ? for what reason I am to say I kept 
it concealed, upon my faith I do not know. But there's 
a noise at the door; I believe it is himself coming out to me: 
I'm utterlv undone ! 

Scene II. 

Enter Phidippus, from the house. 

Phid. (to himself) My wife, when she saw me going to my 
daughter, betook herself out of the house : and look, there 
she is. {Addressing her.) What have you to say, Myrrhina ? 
Hark you ! to you I speak. 

Myr. What, to me, my husband ? 

Phid. Am I your husband ? Do you consider me a hus- 
band, or a man, in fact ? For, woman, if I had ever appeared 
to you to be either of these, I should not in this way have 
been held in derision by your doings. 

Myr. By what doings ? 

Phid. Do you ask the question ? Is not your daughter 
brought to bed ? Eh, are you silent ? By whom ? 

Myr, Is it proper for a father to be asking such a question ? 
Oh, shocking ! By whom do you think, pray, except by him 
to whom she was given in marriage ? 

Phid. I believe it ; nor indeed is it for a father to think 
otherwise. But I wonder much what the reason can be for 
which you so very much wish all of us to be in ignorance of 
the truth, especially when she has been delivered properly, 
and at the right time. 1 That you should be of a mind so per- 

1 At the right time) — Yer. 531. Lemaire observes that, from this 
passage, it would appear that the Greeks considered seven months sum- 



Sc. II. THE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 283 

verse as to prefer that the child should perish, through which 
you might be aire that hereafter there would be a friendship 
more lasting between us. rather than that, at the expense of 
your feelings, his wife should continue with him ! I supposed 
this to be their fault, while in reality it lies with you. 

Myr. I am an unhappy creature ! 

Phid. I wish I were sure that so it was ; but now it 
recurs to my mind what you once said about this matter, 
when we accepted him as our son-in-law. For you declared 
that you could not endure your daughter to be married to 
a person who was attached to a courtesan, and who spent 
his nights away from home. 

Myr. {aside.) Any cause whatever I had rather he should 
suspect than the right one. 

Phid. I knew much sooner than you did. MyrrMoa, that 
he kept a mistress; but this I never considered a crime in 
young men; for it is natural to them all. For, i' faith, the 
time will soon come when even he will be disgusted with him- 
self for doing so. But just as you formerly showed yourself, 
you have never ceased to be the same up to the present time; 
in order that vou mi^ht withdraw vour daughter from him, 
and that what I did might not hold good, one thing itself now 
plainly proves how far you wished it carried out. 

Myr. Do you suppose that I am so wilful that I could 
have entertained such feelings towards one whose mother I 
am, if this match had been to our advantage ? 

Phid. Can you possibly foresee or judge what is to our 
advantage ? You have heard it of some one, perhaps, who 
has told vou that he has seen him coming from or o-oing to his 
mistress, What then ? If he has done so with discretion, 
and but occasionally, is it not more kind in us to conceal 
our knowledge of it. than to do our best to be aware of it, in 
consequence of which he will detest us ? For if he cotdd all 
at once have withdrawn himself from her with whom he had 
been intimate for so many years, I should not have deemed 
him a man, or likely to prove a constant husband for our 
daughter. 

Myr. Do have done about the young man, I pray ; and 

cient for gestation. So it would appear, if we are to take the time of 
the Play to be seven, and not nine, months after the marriage ; and, as 
before observed, the former seems to be the more reasonable conclusion. 



284 hecyea; Act IY. 

what you say I've been guilty of. Go away, meet him by 
yourself; ask him whether he wishes to have her as a wife or 
not ; if so it is that he should say he does wish it, ivhy, send 
her hack ; but if on the other hand he does not wish it, I have 
taken the best course for my child. 

Phid. And suppose he does not wish it, and you, Myrrhina, 
knew him to be in fault ; still I was at hand, by whose advice 
it was proper for these matters to be settled; therefore I am 
greatly offended that you have presumed to act thus without 
my leave. I forbid you to attempt to carry the child any- 
where out of this house. But I am very foolish to be expect- 
ing her to obey my orders. I'll go in-doors, and charge the 
servants to allow it to be carried out nowhere. (Goes into 
the house.) 

Scene III. 

Myeehina, alone. 

Mye. Upon my faith, I do believe that there is no woman 
living more wretched than I ; for how he would take it, if he 
came to know the real state of the case, i' faith, is not 
unknown to me, when he bears this, which is of less conse- 
quence, with such angry feelings ; and I know not in what 
way his sentiments can possibly be changed. Out of very 
many misfortunes, this one evil alone had been wanting 
to me, for him to compel me to rear a child of whom we 
know not who is the father; for when my daughter was 
ravished, it was so dark that his person could not be distin- 
guished, nor was anything taken from him on the occasion 
by which it could be afterwards discovered who he was. He, 
on leaving her, took away from the girl, by force, a ring 
which 1 she had upon her finger. I am afraid, too, of Pam- 
philus, that he may be unable any longer to conceal what I 
have requested, when he learns that the child of another is 
being brought up as his. (Goes into the house.) 

1 A ring which)— Yer. 574. Colman remarks that this preparation 
for the catastrophe by the mention of the ring, is not so artful as might 
have been expected from Terence ; as in this soliloquy he tells the cir- 
cumstances directly to the Audience. 



£C. IV. THE MOTRES-IN-LAW. 2 85 

Scene IV. 
Enter Sostrata and Pamphilus. 

Sos. It is not unknown to me, my son, that I am suspected 
by you as the cause of your wife having left our house in 
consequence of my conduct ; although you carefully conceal 
your knowledge of it. But so may the Gods prosper me. and 
so may you answer all my hopes, I have never knowingly 
deserved that hatred of me should with reason possess her ; 
and while I thought before that you loved me, on that point 
you have confirmed my belief : for indoors your father has 
just now related to me in what way you have preferred me 
to your passion. Now it is my determination to return you 
the favour, that you may understand that with me lies the 
reward of your affection. My Pamphilus, I think that this 
is expedient both for yourselves and my own reputation. I 
have finally resolved to retire hence into the country with 
your father, that my presence may not be an obstacle, and 
that no pretence may remain why your Philumena should not 
return to you. 

Pam. Pray, what sort of resolution is this ? Driven away 
by her folly, would you be removing from the city to live in 
the country ? You shall not do so; and I will not permit, 
mother, any one who may wish to censure us, to say that 
this has been clone through my perverseness, and not your 
inclination. Besides, I do not wish you, for my sake, to 
forego your friends and relations, and festive days. 1 

Sos. Upon my word, these things afford me no pleasure 
now. While my time of life permitted it, I enjoyed them 
enough ; satiety of that mode of life has now taken posses- 
sion of me : this is at present my chief concern, that the 
length of my life may prove an annoyance to no one, or that he 
may look forward with impatience to my death. 2 Here I 
see that, without deserving it, I am disliked ; it is time for 
me to retire. Thus, in the best way, I imagine, I shall cut 

1 And festive days) — Yer. 592. " Festos dies." The days for sacri- 
ficing to particular Divinities, when she would have the opportunity of 
meeting her friends, and making herself merry with them. 

2 Look forward with impatience to my death) — Yer. 596. Colman 
says : " This idea of the long life of a step-mother being odious to her 



286 hecyra; Act IY. 

short all grounds of discontent with all ; I shall both free 
myself from suspicion, and shall be pleasing them. Pray, let 
me avoid this reproach, which so generally attaches on women 
to their disadvantage. 

Pam. {aside.) How happy am I in other respects, were it 
not for this one thing alone, in having such a good mother, 
and her for my wife ! 

Sos. Pray, my Pamphilus, can you not, seeing how each 
woman is, prevail upon yourself to put up with one matter 
of inconvenience ? If everything else is according to your 
wish, and such as I take it to be — my son, do grant me this 
indulgence, and take her back. 

Pam. Alas ! wretched me ! 

Sos. And me as well ; for this affair does not cause me less 
sorrow than you, my son. 



Scene V. 
Enter Laches. 

Lach. While standing just by here, I have heard, wife, 
the conversation you have been holding with him. It is 
true wisdom to be enabled to govern the feelings whenever 
there is necessity ; to do at the present moment what may 
perhaps, in the end, be necessary to be done. 

Sos. Good luck to it, i' troth. 

Lach. Retire then into the country ; there I will bear 
with you, and you with me. 

Sos. I hope so, i' faith. 

Lach. Go indoors then, aud get together the things that 
are to be taken with you, I have now said it. 

Sos. I'll do as you desire. ( Goes into the house?) 

family, is applied in a very beautiful and uncommon manner by Shaks- 
peare : — 

" Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour 
Draws on apace ; for happy days bring in 
Another morn ; but oh, methinks how slow 
1 This old morn wanes ! she lingers my desires 

Like to a step-dame, or a dowager, 
Long withering out a young man's revenue." 

Midsummer NigMs Dream. 



Sc. VI. THE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 287 

Pam. Father r 

Lach. What do you want, Pamphilus ? 

Pam. My mother go away ? By no means. 

Lach. Why would you have it so ? 

Pam. Because I am as yet undetermined what I shall do 
about my wife. 

Lach. How is that ? What should you intend to do but 
bring her home ? 

Pam. For my part, I could like, and can hardly forbear it; 
but I shall not alter my design; that which is most advan- 
tageous I shall pursue • I suppose (ironically) that they will 
be better reconciled, in consequence, if I shall take her back. 

Lach. You cannot tell. But it matters nothing to you 
which they do when she has gone away. Persons o/'this age 
are disliked by young people \ it is right for us to withdraw 
from the world ; in fine, we are now a nice byword. We are, 
Pamphilus, "the old man and the old woman." 1 But I 
see Phidippus coming out just at the time; let's accost him. 



Scene VI. 
Enter Phidippus, from Ms house. 

Phid. (speaking at the door to Philumena, icitMn.) Upon 
my faith, I am angry with you too, Philumena, extremely so, 
for, on my word, you have acted badly; still there is an 
excuse for you in this matter ; your mother forced you to it; 
but for her there is none. 

Lach. (accosting him.) Phidippus, you meet me at a lucky 
moment, just at the very time. 

Phid. What's the matter ? 

Pam. (aside.) What answer shall I make them, or in what 
manner keep this secret ? 

1 The old man and the old woman) — Ver. 621. " Senex atque anus." 
In these words lie probably refers to the commencement of many of the 
stories current in those times, which began : ** There were once upon a 
time an old man and an old woman." Indeed, almost the same words 
occur in the Stichus of Plautus, 1. 540, at the commencement of a story : 
" Fuit olim, quasi ego sum, senex/' " There was upon a time an old 
man, just like me." 



288 hecyea; Act IV. 

Lach. (to Phidippus.) Tell your daughter that Sostrata is 
going into the country, that she may not now be afraid of 
returning home. 

Phid. Alas ! your wife has been guilty of no fault in this 
affair ; all this mischief has originated in my wife Myr- 
rhina. 

Pam. (aside.) They are changing sides. 

Pkid. 'Tis she that causes our disturbances, Laches. 

Pam. (aside.) So long as I don't take her back, let her 
cause as much disturbance as she pleases. 

Phid. I, Pamphilus, could really wish, if it were possible, 
this alliance between us to be lasting; but if you are other- 
wise inclined, still take the child. 1 

Pam. (aside.) He has discovered that she has been brought 
to bed. I'm undone ! 

Lach. The child ! What child ? 

Phid. "We have had a grandson born to us; for my daughter 
was removed from you in a state of pregnancy, and yet never 
before this day did I know that she was pregnant. 

Lach. So may the Gods prosper me, you bring good tidings, 
and I am glad a child has been born, and that she is safe : 
but what hind of woman have you for a wife, or of what 
sort of a temper, that we should have been kept in ignorance 
of this so long ? I cannot sufficiently express how disgraceful 
this conduct appears to me. 

Phid. This conduct does not vex me less than yourself, 
Laches. 

Pam. (aside.) Even if it had just now been a matter of 
doubt to me, it is so no longer, since the child of another man 
is to accompany her. 

Lach. Pamphilus, there is no room now for deliberation 
for you in this matter. 

Pam. (aside.) I'm undone ! 

Lach. (to Pamphilus.) We were often longing to see the 
day on which there should be one to call you father; it has 
come to pass. I return thanks to the Gods. 

Pam. (aside.) I am ruined ! 

Lach. Take home your wife, and don't oppose my will. 

1 Still take the child)— -Yer. 638. In cases of separation it was cus- 
tomary for the father to have the care of the male children. 



Sc. VI. THE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 289 

Pam. Father, if she had wished to have children by me, 
or to continue to be my wife, I am quite certain she would 
not have concealed from me what I find she has concealed. 
Now, as I unci that her mind is estranged from me, and 
think that there would be no agreement between us in future, 
why should I take her back ? 

Lach. The young woman has done what her mother per- 
suaded her. Is that to be wondered at ? Do you suppose 
you can find any woman who is free from fault ? Or is it 
that men have no tailings £ 

Phid. Do you yourselves now consider, Laches, and you, 
Pamphilus, whether it is most advisable for you to leave her 
or take her back. What your wife may do, is not in my 
control. Under neither circumstance will you meet with 
any difficulty from me. But what are we to do with the 
child ? 

Lach. You do ask an absurd question ; whatever happens, 
send him back his child of course, that we may bring it up 
as ours. 

Pam. {in a low voice.) A child which the father has aban- 
doned, am I to rear ? 

Lach. What was it you said ? How — not rear it, Pam- 
philus ? Prithee, are we to expose it, in preference ? What 
madness is this ? Peally, I cannot now be silent any longer. 
For you force me to say in his presence {pointing to Phi- 
dippus) what I would rather not. Do you suppose I am in 
ignorance of tlie cause of your tears, or what it is on account 
of which you are perplexed to this degree ? In the first 
place, when you alleged as a reason, that, on account of your 
mother, you could not have your wife at home, she promised 
that she would leave the house. Xow, since you see this 
pretext as well taken away from you, because a child has 
been born without your knowledge, you have got another. 
You are mistaken if you suppose that I am ignorant of your 
feelings. That at last you might prevail upon your feelings 
to take this step, how long a period for loving a mistress 
did I allow you ! With what patience did I bear the expense 
you were at in keeping her ! I remonstrated with you and 
entreated you to take a wife. I said that it was time : by my 
persuasion you married. What you then did in obedience 
to me, you did as became you. !S"ow again you have set 

u 



290 hecyra; Act IV. 

your fancy upon a mistress, and, to gratify her, you do an 
injury to the other as well. For I see plainly that you have 
once more relapsed into the same course of life. 

Pam. What, I ? 

Lach. Your own self, and you act unjustly therein. You 
feign false grounds for discord, that you may live with her 
when you have got rid of this witness of your actions ; your 
wife has perceived it too ; for what other reason had she for 
leaving you ? 

Phid. {to himself.) It's clear he guesses right ; for that- 
must be it. 

Pam. I will give you my oath that none of these is the 
reason. 

Lach. Oh take home your wife, or tell me why you should 
not. 

Pam. It is not the time at present. 

Lach. Take the child, for surely that is not in fault; I will 
consider about the mother afterwards. 

Pam. {apart.) In every way I am wretched, and what to 
do I know not; with so many troubles is my father now 
besetting wretched me on every side. I'll go away from here, 
since I avail but little by my presence. For without my 
consent, I do not believe that they will bring up the child, 
especially as on that point my mother-in-law will second me. 

{Exit speedily. 

SCEXE VII. 

Laches and Phidippus. 

Lach. {to Pamphilus.) Do you run away ? "What, and 
give me no distinct answer ? {To Phidippus.) Does he seem 
to you to be in his senses ? Let him alone. Phidippus, give 
me the child ; I'll bring it up. 

Phid. By all means. No wonder if my wife has taken 
this amiss : women are resentful ; they do not easily put up 
with such things. Hence that anger of hers, for she herself 
told me of it; I would not mention this to you in his 
presence, and at first I did not believe her; but now it 
is true beyond a doubt; for I see that his feelings are alto- 
gether averse to marriage. 



Sc, VIII. THE 3IOTHEH-IX-LAW. 291 

Lach. What am I to do, then, Phidippus ? What advice 

do you give ? 

Phid. What are you to do ? I am of opinion that first we 
ouo;ht to go to this mistress of his. Let us use entreaties 
with her; then let us rebuke her; and at last, let us very 
seriously threaten her, if she gives him any encouragement 
in future. 

Lach. I will do as you advise. (Tirrnina to an Attexdaxt ) 
Ho, there, boy ! run to the house of Bacchis here, our neigh- 
bour; desire her, in my name, to come hither. [Exit At- 
tend a»T.) And you, I further entreat, to give me your 
assistance in this affair. 

Phid. Well, I have already said, and I now say again to 
the same effect. Laches, I wish this alliance between us to 
continue, if by any means it possibly may, which I trust will 
be the case. But should you like 1 me to be with you while 
you meet her ? 

Lach. Why yes; but first go and get some one as a nurse 
for the child. (Kelt Phidippus. 

SCENE VIII. 

Enter Bacchis, attended ly lier W031EN. 

Bacch. (to her Women.) It is not for nothing that Laches 
now desires to speak with me ; and, i' faith, I am not very 
far from mistaken in making a guess what it is he wants 
me for. 

Lach. (to himself'.) I must take care that I don't, through 
anger, miss gaining in this quarter what I otherwise might, 
and that I don't do anything which hereafter it would have 
been better I had not done. I'll accost her. (Accosts her.) 
Bacchis, good morrow to you ! 

Bacch. Good morrow to you, Laches ! 

Lach. Troth, now, Bacchis, I suppose you somewhat 

1 But should you like) — Yer. 725. Donatus observes that Phidippns 
utters these words with an air of disinclination to be present at the con- 
ference; and, indeed, the characters are well sustained, as it would not be- 
come him coolly to discourse with a courtesan, whom he supposes to have 
alienated Pamphilus from his daughter, although he might very pro- 
perly advise it, as being likely to conduce to the peace of both families, 

u2 



292 hecyra; Act IV. 

wonder what can be my reason for sending the lad to fetch 
you out of doors. 

Bacch. Upon my faith, I am even in some anxiety as well, 
when I reflect what I am, lest the name of my calling should 
be to my prejudice; for my behaviour I can easily defend. 

Lach. If you speak the truth, you will be in no danger, 
woman, from me, for I am now of that age that it is not 
meet for me to receive forgiveness for a fault; for that reason 
do I the more carefully attend to every particular, that I 
may not act with rashness ; for if you now do, or intend to 
do, that which is proper for deserving ivomen to do, it would 
be unjust for me, in my ignorance, to offer an injury to you, 
when undeserving of it. 

Bacch. On my word, great is the gratitude that I ought to 
feel towards you for such conduct ; for he who, after commit- 
ting an injury, would excuse himself, would profit me but 
little. But what is the matter ? 

Lach. You admit my son, Pamphilus, to your house. 

Bacch. Ah! 

Lach. Just let me speak : before he was married to this 
woman, I tolerated your amour. Stay! I have not yet said 
to you what 1 intended. He has now got a wife : look out 
for another person more to be depended on, while you have 
time to deliberate ; for neither will he be of this mind all 
his life, nor, i' faith, will you be always of your present age. 

Bacch. Who is it says this ? 

Lach. His mother-in-law. 

Bacch. What ! that I 

Lach. That you do : and she has taken away her daughter; 
and for that reason, has wished secretly to destroy the child 
that has been born. 

Bacch. Did I know any other means whereby I might be 
enabled to establish my credit with you, more solemn than 
an oath, I would, Laches, assure you of this, that I have kept 
Pamphilus at a distance 1 from me ever since he took a wife. 

1 Kept Pamphilus at a distance) — Yer. 752. Colman observes, how 
are we to reconcile this with the words of Parmeno at the beginning of 
the Play, where he says that Pamphilus visited Bacchis daily ; and he 
enquires whether we are to suppose that Bacchis, who behaves so can- 
didly in every other instance, wantonly perjures herself in this, or that 
the Poet, by a strange infatuation attending him in this Play, contradicts 



Sc. IX. THE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 293 

Lach. You are very good. But, pray, do you know what 
I would prefer that you should do ? 

Bacch. What ? Tell me. 

Lach. Go in-doors there [pointing to the house of Phidip- 
pus) to the women, and make the same promise, on oath, to 
them; satisfy their minds, and clear yourself from this charge. 

Bacch. I will do so ; although, f faith, if it had been any 
other woman of this calling, she would not have done so, I 
am quite sure ; present herself before a married woman 
for such a purpose ! But I do not wish your son to be 
suspected on an unfounded report, nor appear inconstant^ 
undeservedly, to you, to whom he by no means ought ; 
for he has deserved of me, that, so far as I am able, I 
should do him a service. 

Lach. Your language has rendered me quite friendly and 
well disposed towards you; but not only did they think 
so — I too believed it. Now that I have found you quite 
different from what I had expected, take care that you still 
continue the same — make use of my friendship as you please ; 

if otherwise ; but I will forbear, that you may not hear 

anything unkind from me. But this one thing I recommend 
you — make trial what sort of a friend I am, or what I can 
effect as such, rather than ivhat as an enemy. 

Scene IX. 

Enter Phidippus and a Nurse. 

Phid. {to the Nurse.) Nothing at my house will I suffer 
you to be in want of; but whatever is requisite shall be 
supplied you in abundance. Still, when you are well fed 
and well drenched, do take care that the child has enough. 
[The Nurse goes into his house.) 

Lach. (to Bacchis.) My son's father-in-law, I see, is 
coming; he is bringing a nurse for the child. {Accosting him.) 
Phidippus, Bacchis swears most solemnly. 

Phid. Is this she ? 

himself 1 To this it may be answered, that as Bacchis appears to be 
so scrupulous in other instances, it is credible that, notwithstanding his 
visits, she may not have allowed him to share her embraces. 



294 hecyra; Act IV., Sc. IX. 

Lach. It is. 

Phid. Upon my faith, those vramen don't fear the Gods ; 
and I don't think that the Gods care about them. 

Bacch. (jjointwr/ to her Attendants.) I will give you up my 
female servants ; with my full permission, examine them with 
any tortures you please. The business at present is this : I 
must make his wife return home to Pamphilus; should I 
effect that, I shall not regret its being reported that I have 
been the only one to do what other courtesans avoid doing. 1 

Lach. We find, Phidippus, that our wives have been 
unjustly suspected 2 by us in this matter. Let us now try 
her still further ; for if your wife discovers that she has 
given credence to a false charge, she will dismiss her resent- 
ment \ but if my son is also angry, by reason of the circum- 
stance that his wife has been brought to bed without his 
knowledge, that is a trifle : his anger on that account will 
speedily subside. Assuredly in this matter, there is nothing 
so bad as to be deserving of a separation. 

Phid. I sincerely wish it may be so. 

Lach. Examine her; here she is ; she herself will satisfy 
you. 

Phid. Why do you tell me these things ? Is it because 
you have not already heard what my feelings are with regard 
to this matter, Laches ? Do you only satisfy their minds. 

1 Other courtesans avoid doing)— Ver. 777. Colman has the following 
quotation from Donatns : " Terence, by his uncommon art, has attempted 
many innovations with great success. In this Comedy, he introduces, 
contrary to received prejudices, a good step-mother and an honest 
courtesan ; but at the same time he so carefully assigns their motives of 
action, that by him alone everything seems reconciieable to truth and 
nature j for this is just the opposite of what he mentions in another 
place, as the common privilege of all Poets, 'to paint good matrons and 
wicked courtesans.'" Perhaps the same good feeling prompted Terence, 
in showing that a mother-in-law and a courtesan could be capable of 
acting with good and disinterested feelings, which caused Cumberland 
to write his Play of "The Jew,' 7 to combat the popular prejudice 
against that persecuted class, by showing, in the character of Sheva, that 
a Jew might possibly be a virtuous man. 

2 Have been unjustly suspected) — Yer. 778. The words here 
employed are also capable of meaning, if an active sense is g^iven to 
" suspectas," " our wives have entertained wrong suspicions ;" but the 
sense above given seems preferable, as being the meaning of the 
passage. 



Act V., Sc. I. THE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 295 

Lach. Troth now, Bacchis, I do entreat that what you 
have promised nie you will do. 

Bacch. Would you wish me, then, to go in about this 
business ? 

Lach. Go, and satisfy their minds, so as to make them 
Relieve it. 

Bacch. I'll go : although, upon my word, I am quite sure 
that my presence will be disagreeable to them, for a married 
woman is the enemy of a mistress, when she has been sepa- 
rated from her husband. 

Lach. But they will be your friends, when they know the 
reason of your coming. 

Phid. And I promise that they shall be your friends, when 
they know the fact; for you will release them from their 
mistake, and yourself, at the same time, from suspicion. 

Bacch. Wretched me ! I'm ashamed to meet Philumena. 
(To her Attendants.) Do you both follow me into the house. 
{Goes into the house with Phidippus and her Attendants.) 

Lach. {to himself.) What is there that I could more wish 
for, than what I see has happened to this woman ? To 
gain favour without loss to myself, and to benefit myself at the 
same time. For if now it is the fact that she has really with- 
drawn from Pamphilus, she knows that by that step she has 
acquired honour and reputation : she returns the favour to 
him, and, by the same means, attaches us as friends to her- 
self. {Goes into the house.) 



ACT THE FIFTH. 
Scene I. 

Enter Parmeno, moving along with difficulty. 

Par. {to himself.) Upon my faith, my master does assuredly 
think my labour of little value ; to have sent me for 
nothing, where I have been sitting the whole day to no 
pairpose, waiting at the citadel for Callidemides, his land- 
lord at Myconos. And so, while sitting there to-day, like 
& fool, as each person came by, I accosted him: — "Young 
man, just tell me, pray, are you a Myconian ?" "I am not." 



296 hecyra; Act V. 

" But is your name Callidemides ?" " No." " Have you any 
former guest here named Pampliilus ?" All said, "No ; and 
I don't believe that there is any such person." At last, 
i' faith, I was quite ashamed, and went away. But how is 
it I see Bacchis coming out of our neighbour's ? What 
business can she have there ? 



Scene II. 
Miter Bacchis, from the house of Phidippus. 

Bacch. Parmeno, you make your appearance opportunely; 

n with all speed 1 to Pamphilus. 

Par. Why thither? 

Bacch. Say that I entreat him to come. 

Par. To your house ? 

Bacch. No ; to Philumena. 

Par. What's the matter ? 

Bacch. Nothing that concerns you; so cease to make 
enquiry. 

Par. Am I to say nothing else ? 

Bacch. Yes; that Myrrhina has recognised that ring as her 
daughter's, which he formerly gave me. 

Par. I understand — is that all ? 

Bacch. That's all. He will be here directly he has heard 
this from you. But do you linger ? 

Par. Ear from it, indeed ; for I've not had the opportunity 
given me to-day; so much with running and walking about 
have I wasted the whole day. [Goes into the house ^Laches.) 

Scene III. 

Bacchis, alone. 

Bacch. What great joy have I caused for Pamphilus by 
my coming to-day! How many blessings have I brought 
him ! and from how many sorrows have I rescued him ! A son 

1 Run with all speed) — Yer. 809. Donatus remarks, that Parmeno is 
drawn as being of a lazy and inquisitive character ; and that Terence, 
therefore, humorously contrives to keep him always on the move, and 
in total ignorance of what is going on. 



Sc. III. THE jIOTKEK-IN-LAW. 297 

I save for him, when it was nearly perishing through the agency 
of these women and of himself: a wife, whom he thought that 
he must cast off for ever, I restore to him : from the suspicion 
that he lay under with his father and Phidippus, I have 
cleared him. This ring, in fact, was the cause of these 
discoveries beincr made. For I remember, that about ten 
months ago, at an early hour of night, he came running home 
to my house, out of breath, without a companion, and sur- 
charged with wine, 1 with this ring in his hand. I felt alarmed 
immediately : " My Pamphilus," I said, " prithee, my dear, 
why thus breathless, or where did you get that ring ? — tell 
me !" He began to pretend that he was thinking of some- 
thing else. When I saw that, I began to suspect I know not 
what, and to press him still more to tell me. The fellow con- 
fessed that he had ravished some female, he knew not whom, 
in the street; and said, that while she was struggling, he had 
taken that ring away from her. Myrrhina here recognized it 
just now, while I had it on my finger. She asked whence it 
came : I told her all the story. Hence the discovery has been 
made, that it was Philumena ravished by him, and that this 
new-born child is his. I am overjoyed that this happiness has 
befallen him through my agency ; although other courtesans 
would not have similar feelings ; nor, indeed, is it to our 
interest that any lover should find pleasure in matrimony. 
But, i' faith, I never, for the sake of gain, will give my mind 
to base actions. So long as I had the opportunity, I found 
him to be kind, easy, and good-natured. This marriage has 
fallen out unluckily for me, — that I confess to be the fact. 
But, upon my word, I do think that I have done nothing 
for it to befall me deservedly. It is but reasonable to 
endure inconveniences from one from whom I have received 
so many benefits. 

1 Surcharged with wine) — Ver. 824. Cooke has this remark here : 
" I suppose that this is the best excuse the Poet could make for the 
young gentleman's being guilty of felony and rape at the same time. la 
this speech, the incident is related on which the catastrophe of the Play 
turns, which incident is a very barbarous one, and attended with more 
than one absurdity, though it is the occasion of an agreeable discovery." 



298 hecyra; ActV. 



Scene IV. 

JEnter Pamphilus and P 'armeno, from the "house of Laches, 
on the other side of the stage. 

Pam. Once more, take care, will you, my dear Parmeno, 
that you have brought me a faithful and distinct account, so 
as not to allure me for a short time to indulge in these 
transient joys. 

Par. I have taken care. 

Pam. For certain ? 

Par. For certain. 

Pam. I am quite a God, if it is so ! 

Par. You'll find it true. 

Pam. Just stay, will you; I fear that I'm believing one 
thing, and you are telling another. 

Par. I am staying. 

Pam. I think you said to this effect — that Myrrhina had 
discovered that Bacchis has her ring. 

Par. It is the fact. 

Pam. The one I formerly gave to her ; and she has desired 
you to tell me this : is such the fact ? 

Par. Such is so, I tell you. 

Pam. Who is there happier than I, and, in fact, more full 
of joyousness? "What am I to present you for these tidings ? 
What ? — what ? I know not. 

Par. But I know. 

Pam. What? 

Par. Why, nothing ; for neither in the tidings nor in 
myself do I know of there being any advantage to you. 

Pam. What! am I to suffer you, who have caused me, 
when dead, to be restored from the shades to life — to leave 
me unrewarded ? Oh, you deem me too thankless ! But look 
— I see Bacchis standing before the door; she's waiting for 
me, I suppose ; I'll accost her. 

Bacch. Save you, Pamphilus ! 

Pam. Oh Bacchis ! Oh my Bacchis — my preserver ! 

Bacch. It is a fortunate thing, and gives me great delight. 

Pam. By your actions, you give me reason to believe you, 
and so much do you retain your former charming qualities, 



Sc. IV. THE MOTHER-IN-LAW. 299 

that wherever you go, the meeting with yon, your company, 
your conversation, always give pleasure. 

Bacch. And you, upon my word, possess your former man- 
ners and disposition; so much so that not a single man living 
is more engaging than you. 

Pam. [J an gliing.) Ha, ha, ha ! do you tell me so ? 

Bacch. You had reason, Pamphilus, for being so fond of 
your wife. For never before to-day did I set eyes upon her, 
so as to know her : she seems a very gentle person. 

Pam. Tell the truth. 

Bacch. So may the Gods bless me, Pamphilus ! 

Pam. Tell me, have you as yet told any of these matters to 
my father ? 

Bacch. Not a word. 

Pam. Nor is there need, in fact; therefore keep it a secret : 
I don't wish it to be the case here as it is in the Comedies, 1 
where everything is known to everybody. Here, those who 
ought to know, know already; "but those who ought not to 
know, shall neither hear of it nor know it. 

Bacch. Nay more, I will give you a proof why you may 
suppose that this may be the more easily concealed. Myrrhina 
has told Phidippus to this effect — that she has given credit 
to my oath, and that, in consequence, in her eyes you are 
exculpated. 

Pam. Most excellent ; and I trust that this matter will 
turn out according to our wishes. 

Par. Master, may I not be allowed to know from you 
what is the good that I have done to-day, or what it is you 
are talking about ? 

Pam. You may not. 

1 In the Comedies) — Yer. 867. Madame Dacier observes on this 
passage : u Terence here,, with reason, endeavours to make the most of 
a circumstance peculiar to his Play. In other Comedies, everybody, 
Actors as well as Spectators* are at last equally acquainted with the 
whole intrigue and catastrophe, and it would even be a defect in the 
plot were there any obscurity remaining. But Terence, like a true 
genius, makes himself superior to rules, and adds new beauties to his 
piece by forsaking them. His reasons for concealing from part of the 
personages of the Drama the principal incident of the plot, are so plau- 
sible and natural, that he could not have followed the beaten track 
without offending against manners and decency. This bold and uncom- 
mon turn is one of the chief graces of the Play." 



300 hecyra. Act V., Sc. IV. 

Par. Still I suspect. "I restore him, when dead, from the 
shades below." 1 In what way ? 

Pam. You don't know, Parmeno, how much you have 
benefited me to-day, and from what troubles you have 
extricated me. 

Par. Nay, but indeed I do know : and I did not do it 
without design. 

Pam. I know that well enough (ironically). 

Bacch. Could Parmeno, from negligence, omit anything that 
ought to be done ? 

Pam:. Follow me in, Parmeno. 

Par. I'll follow ; for my part, I have done more good to- 
day, without knowing it, than ever I did, knowingly, in all 
my life. {Coming forward.) Grant us your applause. 3 

1 From the shades below) — Yer. 876. Parmeno says this, while pon- 
dering upon the meaning of all that is going on, and thereby expresses 
his impatience to become acquainted with it. He therefore repeats 
what Pamphilus has before said in the twelfth line of the present Act, 
about his having been restored from death to life by his agency. 

2 Your applause) — Yer. 881. We may here remark, that the Hecyra 
is the only one of the Plays of Terence with a single plot. 






PHOBMIO; OE THE SCHEMING PABASITE. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 

Demipho, 1 ) Aged Athenians ^ brothers. 

Chremes, 2 > 

Antepho, 3 son of Demipho. 

PhtKDBIA, 4 son of Chremes. 

Phormio, 5 a Parasite. 

Geta, 6 servant of Dernipho. 

Dayus, 7 a servant. 

Hegio, s i 

Cratinus, 9 > Advocates. 

Crito, 10 J 

Dorio, 11 a Procurer. 

Kausistrata, 1 - the wife of Chremes. 
Sophroxa, 13 the nurse of Phanium. 

Scene. — Athens; before the houses of Demipho, Chremes, and Dorio. 



1 From cni-iog, "the people/' and $u>g, "light." 
* : See the Dramatis Persona? of the Andria. 

3 See the Dramatis Persona? of the Eunuchus. 

4 See the Dramatis Persona? of the Eunuchus. 

5 From (popfibc, "an osier basket." 

6 See the Dramatis Persona? of the Adelphi. 

7 See the Dramatis Persona? of the Andria. 

8 See the Dramatis Persona? of the Adelphi. 

9 From Kpa-bc, "strength." 

10 See the Dramatis Persona? of the Andria. 

11 From Doris, his country, a part of Caria. 

12 From vavc, " a ship," and aroarbc, "an army. 

13 See the Dramatis Persona? of the Eunuchus. 



THE SUBJECT. 



Chremes and Dejiipho are two aged Athenians, brothers. Kausistrata, 
the wife of Chremes, is a wealthy woman, possessed of large estates in 
the island of Lemnos. Chremes, who goes thither yearly to receive 
the rents, meets with a poor woman there, whom he secretly marries, 
and has by her a daughter, called Phanium : while engaged in this 
intrigue, Chremes passes at Lemnos by the name of Stilpho. By his 
wife, Nausistrata, at Athens, Chremes has a son, named Phaadria, 
and his brother has a son, named Antipho. Phanium having now 
arrived at her fifteenth year, the two brothers privately agree that 
she shall be brought to Athens and married to Antipho. For this 
purpose, Chremes goes to Lemnos, while Demipho is obliged to take 
a journey to Cilicia. On departing, they leave their sons in the care 
of Geta, one of Demipho's servants. Shortly afterwards, Phsedria 
falls in love with a Music-girl, but, from want of means, is unable to 
purchase her from her owner. In the meantime, the Lemnian wife 
of Chremes, urged by poverty, embarks for Athens, whither she 
arrives with her daughter and her nurse. Here they inquire for 
Stilpho, but in vain, as they cannot find any one of that name. 
Shortly after, the mother dies, and Antipho, seeing Phanium by acci- 
dent, falls in love with her. Being wishful to marry her, he applies 
to Phormio, a Parasite, for his advice. The latter hits upon the fol- 
lowing scheme: there being a law at Athens, which obliges the next- 
of-kin to female orphans, either to marry them or give them a portion, 
the Parasite pretends that he is a friend of Phanium, and insists that 
Antipho is her nearest relation, and is consequently bound to marry 
her. Antipho is summoned before a court of justice, and it being 
previously arranged, allows judgment to be given against himself, 
and immediately marries Phanium. Shortly after, the old men 
return upon the same day, and are much vexed, the one on finding 
that his son has married a woman without a fortune, the other that 
he has lost the opportunity of getting his daughter advantageously 
married. In the meantime, Phaedria being necessitated to raise some 
money to purchase the Music-girl, Geta and Phormio arrange that 
the former shall pretend to the old man, that Phormio has consented 
to take back the woman whom Antipho has married, if Demipho will 
give her a portion of thirty minae. Demipho borrows the money of 
Chremes, and pays it to Phormio, who hands it over to Phaedria, and 
Phaedria to Dorio, for his mistress. At this conjuncture, it becomes 
known who Phanium really is, and the- old men are delighted to find 
that Antipho has married the very person they wished. They attempt, 
however, to get back the thirty minee from Phormio, and proceed to 
threats and violence. On this, Phormio, who has accidentally learnt 
the intrigue of Chremes with the woman of Lemnos, exposes him, 
and relates the whole story to his wife, ISTausistrata ; on which she 
censures her husban 3 for his bad conduct, and the Play concludes 
with her thanks to Phormio for his information. 



THE TITLE OF THE PLAY. 



Pehfor^ied at the Eoman Games, 1 L. Posthuinius Albinus 
and L. Cornelius Merula being Curule iEdiles. L. Anibi- 
vius Turpio and L. Atilius Prsenestinus performed it. 
Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music to 
a base and a treble flute. It is wholly from the Greek, 
being the Epidicazomenos of Apollodorus. It was repre- 
sented four times, 2 C. Fannius and M. Valerius being 
Consuls. 3 



1 Tlie Roman Games) — The "ludi Romani," or "Eoman Games/* 
were first established by Ancus Marcius, and were celebrated in the 
month of September. 

2 Four times) — The numerals signifying "four," Donatus takes to 
mean that this was the fourth Play composed by Terence ; it is, however, 
more generally supposed that the meaning is, that it was acted four 
times in oue year. 

3 Being Consuls) — M. Valerius Messala and C. Fannius Strabo were 
Consuls in the year from the Building of the City 591, and B.C. 162. 



PHOBMIO ; OR, THE SCHEMING PARASITE, 



THE SUMMARY OF C. SULPITIUS APOLLINARIS. 

Dejiipho, the brother of Chrernes, has gone abroad, his son Antipho 
being left at Athens. Chrernes has secretly a wife and a daughter at 
Lemnos, another wife at Athens, and an only son, who loves a 
Music-girl. The mother arrives at Athens from Lemnos, and there 
dies. The girl, her orphan daughter, (Chrernes being away,) arranges 
the funeral. After Antipho has fallen in love with her when seen 
there, through the aid of the Parasite he receives her as his wife. 
His father and Chrernes, having now returned, begin to be enraged. 
Afterwards they give thirty minse to the Parasite, that he may take 
her as his own wife. With this money the Music-girl is bought 
for Phaidria. Antipho then keeps his wife, who has been recognized 
by his uncle. 



THE PBOLOGTJE. 

Since the old Poet 1 cannot withdraw our bard from his 
pursuits and reduce him to indolence, he endeavours, by- 
invectives, to deter him from writing : for he is wont to say 
to this effect, — that the Plays which he has hitherto com- 
posed are poor in their language, and of meagre style; because 
he has nowhere described a frantic youth as seeing a hind 
in flight, and the hounds pursuing; while he implores 2 and 

1 Since the old Poet) — Yer. 1. He alludes to his old enemy, Luscus 
Lavinius, who is mentioned in all his Prologues, except those to the 
Hecyra. 

2 While one implored) — Ver. 8. "Et earn plorare, orare ut subveniat 
sibi." This is probably in allusion to some absurd passage in one of the 
Plays of Lavinius. It is generally supposed to mean, that the stag 
implores the young man; but as the youth is mad, the absurdity of the 
passage is heightened if we suppose that he implores the stag, and, in 
the moment of its own danger, entreats it to come to his own assistance ; 
as certainly the Latin will admit of that interpretation. — Ovid has a 
somewhat similar passage in the Pontic Epistles, B. ii. Ep. ii. 1. 39 : 
" The hind that, in its terror, is flying from the savage dogs, hesitates 
not to trust itself to the neighbouring house." 



PHORMIOj OR, THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 305 

entreated that lie would give her aid. But if he had been 
aware that his Play, when formerly first represented, stood 
its ground more through the merits of the performers than 
its own, he would attack with much less boldness than he 
does. Now, if there is any one who says or thinks to this 
effect, that if the old Poet had not assailed him first, the 
young one could have devised no Prologue for him to repeat, 
without having some one to abuse, let him receive this for 
an answer: "that the prize is proposed in common to all 
who apply to the Dramatic art." He has aimed at driving 
our Poet from his studies to absolute want; he then has 
intended this for an answer, not an attack. If he had opposed 
him with fair words, be would have heard himself civilly 
addressed ; what has been given by him, let him consider 
as now returned. I will make an end of speaking about 
him, when, of his own accord, he himself makes an end 
of offending. Now give your attention to what I request. 
I present you a new Play, which they call "Epidicazo- 
menos," 1 in Greek: in the Latin, he calls it "Phormio;" 
because the person that acts the principal part is Phormio, 
a Parasite, through whom, principally, the plot will be 
carried on, if your favour attends the Poet. Lend your 
attention; in silence give an ear with impartial feelings, 
that we may not experience a like fortune to what we 
did, when, through a tumult, our Company was driven 
from the place; 2 which place, the merit of the actor, and 
your goodwill and candour seconding it, has since restored 
unto us. 



1 Epidicazomenos) — Ver. 25. A Play of Apollodorus, so called from 
that Greek word, signifying "one who demands justice from another/' 
in allusion to Phormio, who is the complainant in the suit, which is 
the foundation of the plot. 

2 Was driven from the place) — Yer. 32. Alluding, probably, to the 
disturbances which took place at the first representation ot the Hecyra, 
and which are mentioned in the Prologues to that Play. 



306 Piioniiio ; oe, Act I., Sc. I. 

ACT THE FIRST. 

Scene I. 

Enter Davus, 1 ivith a lag of money in his hand. 

Dav. Geta, my very good friend and fellow-townsman, 
came to me yesterday. There had been for some time a 
trifling balance of money of his in my hands upon a small 
account ; he ashed me to make it up. I have done so, and 
am carrying it to him. But I hear that his master's son has 
taken a wife ; this, I suppose, is scraped together as a present 
for her. How unfair a custom ! — that those who have the 
least should always be giving something to the more wealthy! 
That which the poor wretch has with difficulty spared, ounce 
by ounce, out of his allowance, 2 defrauding himself of every 
indulgence, the whole of it will she carry off, without 
thinking with how much labour it has been acquired. And 
then besides, Geta will be struck 3 for another present 4 when 
his mistress is brought to bed; and then again for another 
present, when the child's birthday comes; when they initiate 
him, 5 too : all this the mother will carry off; the child will 
only be the pretext for the present. But don't I see 
Geta there ? 

1 Davus) — Davus is a protatic character, only introduced for the pur- 
pose ot opening the story. 

2 Out of his allowance) — Yer. 43. Donatus tells us that the slaves 
received four "modi!," or measures of corn, each month, which was 
called their " demensum." 

3 Will be struck)— Ver. 48. ' ' Ferietur." "To strike" a person for 
a present was said when it was extorted from him reluctantly. So in 
the Trinummuns of Plautus, 1. 247, "Ibi ilia pendentem ferit." "Then 
does she strike while he is wavering." 

4 For another present) — Yer. 48. Presents were usually made to 
persons on their birthday, on the day of their marriage, and on the 
birth of their children. 

5 Initiate him) — Yer. 49. It is not known what initiation is here 
referred to. Madame Dacier thinks it was an initiation into the great 
mysteries of Geres, which was commonly performed while children were 
yet very young; others suggest that it means the period of weaning the 
child, and initiating it into the use of another kind of diet. Donatus 
says, that Yarro speaks of children being initiated into the mysteries of 
the Deities Edulia, Potica, and Cuba, the Divinities of Eating, Drinking, 
and Sleeping. 



Sc. IL the sGwmizm pakasite. 307 

Scene II. 
"Enter Geta, from the house of De^ipho. 

Geta. (at the door, to those within!) If any red-haired man 
should enquire for me 

Dav. (stepping forward.) Here he is, say no more. 

Geta. (starting.) Oh ! Why I was trying to come and 
meet you, Davus. 

Day. (giving the money to Geta.) Here, take it; it's all 
ready counted out; 1 the number just amounts to the sum I 
owed you. 

Geta. I am obliged to you; and I return you thanks for 
not having forgotten me. 

Dav. Especially as people's ways are now-a-days; things 
are come to such a pass, if a person repays you anything, 
you must be greatly obliged to him. Eut why are you out 
of spirits ? 

Geta. What, I ? You little know what terror and peril 
I am in. 

Dav. What's the matter ? 

Geta. You shall know, if you can only keep it secret. 

Dav. Out upon you, simpleton; the man, whose trustwor- 
thiness you have experienced as to money, are you afraid to 
entrust with words ? In what way have I any interest in 
deceiving you ? 

Geta. Well then, listen. 

Dav. I give you my best attention. 

Geta. Davus, do you know Chremes, the elder brother of 
our old gentleman ? 

Dav. Why should I not ? 

Geta. Well, and his son Ph&dria ? 

Dav. As well as your own self. 

Geta. It so happened to both the old gentlemen, just at 
the same period, that the one had to take a journey to 
Lemnos, and our old man to Cilicia, to see an old acquaint- 
ance ; he tempted over the old man by letters, promising him 
all but mountains of gold. 

1 Ready counted out) — Ver. 53. "Ledum," literally "picked out" 
or "chosen" — the coins being of full weight. 

x2 



308 phormio; or, Act I. 

Dav. To one who had so much property, that he had 
more than he could use ? 

Get a. Do have done ; that is his way. 

Dav. Oh, as for that, I really ought to have been a man 
of fortune. 

Geta. When departing hence, Loth the old gentlemen left 
me as a sort of tutor to their sons. 

Dav. Ah, Geta, you undertook a hard task there. 

Geta. I came to experience it, I know that. I'm quite 
sure that I was forsaken by my good Genius, who must have 
been angry with me. 1 I began to oppose them at first; but 
what need of talking ? As long as I was trusty to the old 
men, I was paid for it in my shoulder-blades. This, then, 
occurred to my mind : why, this is folly to kick against the 
spur. 2 I began to do everything for them that they wished 
to be humoured in. 

Dav. You knew how to make your market. 3 

Geta. Our young fellow did no mischief whatever at first; 
that Phsedria at once picked up a certain damsel, a Music- 
girl, and fell in love with her to distraction. She belonged 
to a most abominable Procurer ; and their fathers had taken 
good care that they should have nothing to give him. There 
remained nothing for him then but to feed his eyes, to follow 
her about, to escort her to the school, 4 and to escort her back 
again. We, having nothing to do, lent our aid to Phsedria. 
Near the school at which she was taught, right opposite the 

1 Have been angry ivith me) — Yer. 74. He alludes to the common 
belief that each person had a Genius or Guardian Deity; and that when 
misfortune overtook him, he had been abandoned by his Genius. 

2 Kick against the spur) — Yer. 78. " To kick against the pricks," or 
" in spite of the spur," was a common Greek proverb. The expression 
occurs in the New Testament, Acts ix. 5. " It is hard for thee to kick 
against the pricks." 

3 To make your market) — Yer. 79. This is a metaphorical expression 
taken from traffic, in which merchants suit themselves to the times, 
and fix a price on their commodities, according to the course of the 
market. 

4 To the school)— -Yer. 86. It was the custom for the "lenones," or 
"procurers," to send their female slaves to music-schools, in order to 
learn accomplishments. So in the Prologue to the Kudens of Plautus : 
"This Procurer brought the maiden to Cyrene hither. A certain 
Athenian youth, a citizen of this city, beheld her as she was going home 
from the music-school." 



Sc. II. THE SCHEMING PABASITE. 309 

place, there was a certain barber's shop : here we were 
generally in the habit of waiting for her, until she was 
coming home again. In the meantime, while one day we 
were sitting there, there came in a young man in tears ; l we 
were surprised at this. We enquired what was the matter ? 
"Never," said he, "has poverty appeared to me a burden 
so grievous and so insupportable as just now. I have just 
seen a certain poor young woman in this neighbourhood 
lamenting her dead mother. She was laid out before her, and 
not a single friend, acquaintance, or relation was there with 
her, except one poor old woman, to assist her in the funeral : 
I pitied her. The girl herself was of surpassing beauty." 
What need of a long story ? She moved us all. At once 
Antipho exclaims, " Would you like us to go and visit 
her ? " The other said, " I think we ought — let us go — show 
us the way, please." We went, and arrived there; we saw 
her j the girl was beautiful, and that you might say so the 
more, there was no heightening to her beauty; her hair 
dishevelled, her feet bare, herself neglected, and in tears ; her 
dress mean, so that, had there not been an excess of beauty 
in her very charms, these circumstances must have extin- 
guished those charms. The one who had lately fallen in love 
with the Music-girl said: "She is well enough;" but our 
youth 

Dav. I know it already — fell in love with her. 

Geta. Can you imagine to what an extent ? Observe the 
consequence. The day after, he goes straight to the old 
woman ; entreats her to let him have her : she, on the other 
hand, refuses him, and says that he is not acting properly; 
that she is a citizen of Athens, virtuous, and born of honest 
parents : that if he wishes to make her his wife, he is at 
liberty to do so according to law; but if otherwise, she 
gives him a refusal. Our youth was at a loss what to do. 
He was both eager to marry her, and he dreaded his absent 
father. 

1 Young man in tears) — Yer. 92. In the Play of Apollodorus, it was 
the barber himself that gave the account how he had just returned from 
cutting off the young woman's hair, which was one of the usual ceremo- 
nies in mourning among the Greeks. Donatus remarks, that Terence 
altered this circumstance that he might not shock a Roman audience 
by a reference to manners so different from their own. 



310 phoemio; or, Actl. 

Dav. Would not his father, if he had returned, have given 
him leave. 

Geta. He let him marry a girl with no fortune, and of 
obscure birth 1 He would never do so. 

Dav. What came of it at last ? 

Geta. What came of it ? There is one* Phormio here, a 
Parasite, a fellow of great assurance; may all the Gods 
confound him I 

Dav. What has he done ? 

Geta. He has given this piece of advice, which I will tell 
you of. " There is a law, that orphan girls are to marry those 
who are their next-of-kin; and the same law commands such 
persons to marry them. I'll say you are the next-of-kin, and 
take out a summons 1 against you; I'll pretend that I am 
a friend of the girl's father; we will come before the judges : 
who her father was, who her mother, how she is related to 
you — all this I'll trump up, just as will be advantageous and 
suited to my purpose ; on your disproving none of these 
things, I shall prevail of course. Your father will return ; a 
quarrel will be the consequence ; what care I ? She will still 
be ours." 

Dav. An amusing piece of assurance ! 

Geta. He was persuaded to this. It was carried out; 
they came into court : we were beaten. He has married her* 

Dav. What is it you tell me ? 

Geta. Just what you have heard/ 

Dav. Geta, what will become of you ? 

Geta. Upon my faith, I don't know; this one thing I do- 
know, whatever fortune may bring, I'll bear it with firmness* 

Dav. You please me; well, that is the duty of a man. 

Geta. All my hope is in myself. 

Dav. I commend you. 

Geta. Suppose I have recourse to some one to intercede 
for me, who will plead for me in these terms : " Pray, do 
forgive him this time; but if after this he does anything, 
I make no entreaty:" if only he doesn't add, "When I've 
gone, e'en kill him for my part." ' 

Dav. What of the one who was usher to the Music-girl ? s 

1 Take out a summons) — Ver. 127. "Dica" was the writ or sum- 
mons with which an action at law was commenced. 

2 Usher to the Music-girl) — Yer. 144. This is said satirically of 



Sc. III. THE SCHEMING PAEASITE. 311 

Geta. {shrugging his shoulders.) So so, but poorly. 

Day. Perhaps he hasn't much to give. 

Geta. Why, really, nothing at all, except mere hopes. 

Day. Is his lather come back or not ? 

Geta. Not yet. 

Day. Well, irben do you expect your old man ? 

Geta. I don't know for certain, but I just now heard 
that a letter has been brought from him, and has been left 
•with the officers of the customs: I'm going to fetch it. 

Day. Is there anything else that you want with me, 
Geta ? 

Geta. Nothing, hut that I wish you well. [lUxit Dayus.) 
Hark you, boy {calling at the door). Is nobody coming out 
here ? (J. Lad canes out.) Take this, and giye it to Dorcfuni. 
(He gives the purse to the Lab, who carries it into De:mipho'& 
house, and exit Geta.) 

Scene III. 

Enter Antipho and Phledria. 

Ant. That things should have come to such a pass, Phss- 
dria, that I should be in utter dread of my father, who 
wishes me so well, whenever his return comes into my 
thoughts ! Had I not been inconsiderate, I might have 
waited for him, as I ought to have done. 

Ph-ED. What's the matter r 

Axt. Do you ask the question ? You, who have been my 
confederate in so bold an adventure ? How I do wish it 
had never entered the mind of Phormio to persuade me to 
this, or to urge me in the heat of my passion to this step, 
which is the source of my misfortunes. Then, I should not 
have obtained her; in that case I might have been uneasy 
for some few days ; but still, this perpetual anxiety would 
not have been tormenting my mind {touching Phjedhia). 

Ph-ED. I hear you. 

Phaedria, who was in the habit of escorting the girl to the music-school. 
It was the duty oi the "pgedagogi," or '•'tutors." to lead the children to 
school,, who were placed under their care. See the speech of Lydus, the 
paedagogus of Pistoclerus. in the Bacchides of Plautus, Act iii. Sc. 3, 
where, enlarging upon his duties ; he mentions this among them. 



312 phormio; or, Act I. 

-Ant. While I am every moment expecting his return, 
who is to sever from me this connection. 1 

Ph^d. Other men feel uneasiness because they cannot 
gain what they love; you complain because you have too 
much. You are surfeited with love, Antipho. Why, really, 
upon my faith, this situation of yours is surely one to be 
coveted and desired. So may the Gods kindly bless me, 
could I be at liberty to be so long in possession of the object 
of my love, I could contentedly die. Do you, then, form a 
judgment as to the rest, what I am now suffering from this 
privation, and what pleasure you enjoy from the possession of 
your desires; not to mention how, without any expense, you 
have obtained a well-born and genteel woman, and have got a 
wife of unblemished reputation : happy you, were not this one 
thing wanting, a mind capable of bearing all this with mode- 
ration. If you had to deal with that Procurer with whom I 
have to deal, then you would soon be sensible of it. We are 
mostly all of us inclined by nature to be dissatisfied with our 
lot. 

Ant. Still, on the other hand, Pha3clria, you now seem to 
me the fortunate man, who still have the liberty, without 
restraint, of resolving on what pleases you best : whether to 
keep, to love on, or to give her up. I, unfortunately, have 
got myself into that position, that I have neither right 2 to 
give her up, nor liberty to retain her. But how's this ? Is 
it our Geta I see running this way ? Tis he himself. Alas ! 
I'm dreadfully afraid what news it is he's now bringing me. 

Scene IV. 

Enter Geta, running, at the other side of the stage. 

Geta. (to himself.) Geta, you are undone, unless you 
instantly find out some expedient; so suddenly do such 
mighty evils now threaten me thus unprepared, which I 
neither know how to shun, nor how to extricate myself there- 

1 Sever from me this connection) — Yer. 161. By forcing him to 
divorce her. 

2 Neither right) — Yer. 176. No right to get rid of her in consequence 
of the judgment which, at the suit of Phormio, has been pronounced 
against him ; nor yet, right to keep her, because of his father insisting 
upon turning her out of doors. 



Sc. IV. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 313 

from; for this daring step of ours cannot now any longer be 
kept a secret. If such a result is not adroitly guarded against, 
these matters will cause the ruin of myself, or of my master. 

Ant. {to Phjedria.) Why, I wonder, is he coming in such 
a fright ? 

Geta. {to himself.) Besides, I've but a moment left for this 
matter — my master's close at hand. 

Ant. {to Ph^edkia.) What mischief is this ? 

Geta. {to himself.) When he comes to hear of it, what 
remedy shall I discover for his anger ? Am I to speak ? I 
shall irritate him : be silent ? I shall provoke him : excuse 
myself? I should be washing a brickbat. 1 Alas ! unfortunate 
me ! While I am trembling for myself, this Antipho distracts 
my mind. I am concerned for him; I'm in dread for him : 'tis 
he that now keeps me here; for had it not been for him, I should 
have made due provision for my safety, and have taken ven- 
geance on the old man for his crabbedness; I should have 
scraped up something, and straightway taken to my heels 
away from here. 

Ant. {to Phjedria.) I wonder what running away or theft 
it is that he's planning. 

Geta. {to himself) But where shall I find Antipho, or 
which way go look for him ? 

Ph.ed. {to Antipho.) He's mentioning your name. 

Ant. {to Ph.edria.) I know not what great misfortune I 
expect to hear from this messenger. 

Ph^ed. {to Antipho.) Why, are you in your senses ? 

Geta. {to himself) I'll make my way homewards; he's 
generally there. 

Ph^d. {to Antipho.) Let's call the fellow back. 

Ant. {calling out.) Stop, this instant. 

Geta. {turning round.) Heyday — with authority enough, 
whoever you are. 

Ant. Geta ! 

Geta. The very person I wanted to find. 

1 Be washing a hriclcbat) — Yer. 187. " Laterem lavare," "to wash a 
brick," or "tile," was a proverb signifying labour in vain, probably because 
(if the brick was previously baked) it was impossible to wash away the 
red colour of it. According to some, the saying alluded to the act of 
washing a brick which had been only dried in the sun, in which case the 
party so doing both washed away the brick and soiled his own fingers. 



314 peosmio; or, Act I. 

Ant. Pray, tell me what news you bring, and despatch it 
in one word, if you can. 

Geta. I'll do so. 

Ant. Out with it. 

Geta. Just now, at the harbour ■ 

Ant. What, my father ? 

Geta. You've hit it. 

Ant. Ruined outright ! 

Ph,ed. Pshaw! 

Ant. What am I to do ? 

Ph^ed. (to Geta.) What is it you say ? 

Geta. That I have seen his father, your uncle, 

Ant. How am I, wretch that I am. now to find a remedy 
for this sudden misfortune ? But if it should be my fortune, 
Phanium, to be torn away from you, life would cease to be 
desirable. 

Geta. Therefore, Antipho, since matters are thus, the 
more need have you to be on your guard; fortune helps the 
brave. 

Ant. I am not myself. 

Geta. But just now it is especially necessary you should 
be so, Antipho; for il" your father perceives that you are 
alarmed, he will think that you have been guilty of some 
fault. 

Ph^d. That's true. 

Ant. I cannot change. 

Geta. What would you do, if now something else still 
more difficult had to be done by you ? 

Ant. As I am not equal to this, 1 should be still less so to 
the other. 

Geta. This is doing nothing at all, Phsedria, let's be gone ; 
why do we waste our time here to no purpose. I shall be 
off. 

Ph,ed. And I too. {They move as if going.) 

Ant. Pray, now, if I assume an air, will that do ? (Re 
endeavours to assume another air.) 

Geta. You are trifling. 

Ant. Look at my countenance — there's for you. (Assvmxing 
a different air.) Will that do ? 

Geta, Mb. 

Ant. Well, will this ? {Assuming another air.) 



Sc. V, THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 315 

Geta. Pretty well. 

Ant. Well then, this? [Assuming a still bolder air.) 

Geta. That's just the thing. There now. keep to that, and 
answer him word for word, like for like ; don't let him, in his 
anger, disconcert' you with his blustering words. 

Ant. I understand. 

Geta. Say that you were forced against your will by law, 
by sentence of the court; do you take me ? [Looking earnestly 
in one direction.) But who is the old man that I see at the 
end of the street ? 

Ant. 'Tis he himself. I cannot stand it. (Going.) 

Geta. Oh ! What are you about ? "Whither are you going 
Antipho ? Stop. I tell you. 

Ant, I know my own self and my offence ; to your manage- 
ment I trust Phaniuru and my own existence. (Exit hastily. 

Scene V. 
Peledria and Geta, 

Ph^:d. Geta, what's to be done now ? 

Geta. You will just hear some harsh language : I shall be 
trussed up and trounced, if I am not somewhat mistaken. 
But what we were just now advising Antipho to do, the 
same we must do ourselves, Phasdria, 

Ph,ed. Away with your " musts;" rather do you command 
me what I am to do. 

Geta. Do you remember what were your words formerly 
on our entering upon this project, with the view of protecting 
yourselves from ill consequences — that their cause was just, 
clear, unanswerable, and most righteous ? 

Ph^ed. I remember it. 

Geta. Well then, now there's need of that plea, or of one 
still better and more plausible, it such there can be. 

Ph^ed. I'll use my best endeavours. 

Geta. Do you then accost him first; Til be here in reserve, 1 
by way of reinforcement, if you give ground at all. 

Peled. Yery well. (They retire to a distance) 

1 Here in reserve)— Yer. 230. "Succenturiatus." The "succentu- 
riati" were, properly, men entrusted to fill up vacancies in the centuries 
or companies, when thinned by battle. 



316 PHOEMIOj or, Act I. 

Scene VI. 

Enter Demipho, at the other side of the stage. 

Dem. {to himself) And is it possible that Antipho has 
taken a wife without my consent ? and that no authority of 
mine — but let alone "authority" 1 — no displeasure of mine, 
at all events, has he been in dread of? To have no sense of 
shame ! O audacious conduct ! O Geta, rare adviser ! 

Geta. {apart to PjBLEDRlA.) Just brought in at last. 

Dem. What will they say to me, or what excuse will they 
find ? I wonder much. 

Geta. {apart.) Why, I've found that out already; do think 
of something else. 

Dem. Will he be saying this to me : "I did it against my 
will; the law compelled me ?" I hear you, and admit it. 

Geta. {apart.) Well said ! 

Dem. But knowingly, in silence, to give up the cause to 
his adversaries — did the law oblige him to do that as well ? 

Geta. {apart) That is a hard blow. 

Phjed. I'll clear that up ; let me alone for that. 

Dem. It is a matter of doubt what I am to do ; for beyond 
expectation, and quite past all belief, has this befallen me. So 
enraged am I, that I cannot compose my mind to think upon 
it. Wherefore it is the duty of all persons, when affairs are the 
most prosperous, 2 then in especial to reflect within themselves 
in what way they are to endure adversity. "Returning from 
abroad, let him always picture to himself dangers and losses, 
either offences committed by a son, or the death of his wife, or 
the sickness of a daughter, — that these things are the common 
lot, so that no one of them may ever come as a surprise upon 
his feelings. Whatever falls out beyond his hopes, all that 
he must look upon as so much gain. 

1 Let alone "authority") — Yer. 232. "Ac mitto imperium." Cicero 
has quoted this passage in his Epistles to Atticus, B. ii. Ep. 19. 

2 When affairs are the most prosperous) — Yer. 241. Cicero quotes 
this passage in the Third Book of his Tusculan Questions, and the maxim 
here inculcated was a favourite one with the Stoic philosophers. 



Sc. VI. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 317 

Geta. (apart.) Phsedria, it is incredible how much I sur- 
pass my master in wisdom. All my misfortunes hare been 
already calculated upon by me. upon my master coming home. 
I must grind at the mill, be beaten, wear fetters, be set to 
work in the fields; not one individual thing of these will 
happen unexpected by my mind. Whatever falls out beyond 
my expectations, all that I shall look upon as so much gain. 
But why do you hesitate to accost him, and soften him at the 
outset with fair words ? (Phsedria goes forward to accost 
Demipho.) 

Dem. (to liimself.) I see Phsedria, my brothers son, coming 
towards me. 

PhjlD. Z\Iy uncle, welcome ! 

Dem . Greetings to you ; but where is Antipho ? 

Peled. That you have arrived in safety 

Dem. I believe it ; answer my question. 

Ph,ed. He is well; he's close at hand; but is everything 
quite to your wishes ? 

Dem. I wish it was so, indeed. 

Peled. What's the matter ? 

Dem. Do you ask me, Phsedria ? You people have cooked 
up a fine marriage in my absence. 

Pbled. What now, are you angry with him for that ? 

Geta. (apart.) What a clever contriver ! 

Dem. Have I not reason to be angry with him ? I long 
for him to come into my sight, that he may know that 
through his faultiness, from being a mild father, I am become 
a most severe one. 

Ph.ed. But he has done nothing, uncle, for which you 
should blame him. 

Dem. Now, do look at that; all alike; all hanging together; 
when you know one, you know all. 

Ph.ed. That is not the case. 

Dem. When the one is in fault, the other is at hand to 
defend him; when it is the other, then he is ready; they 
; ust help one another by turns. 

Geta. (apart.) The old man, without knowing it, has 
exactly described their proceedings. 

Dem. For if it had not been so, you would not, Phsedria, 
have stood up for him. 

Peled. If, uncle, it is the fact, that Antipho has been 



318 phoemio; or, Act I. 

guilty of any fault, in consequence of which he has been too 
regardless of his interest or his reputation, I would not 
allege any reason why he should not suffer what he deserves. 
But if some one by chance, reying upon his own artfulness, 
has laid a snare for our youthful age, and has succeeded, is 
it our fault or that of the judges, who often, through 
envy, take away from the rich, or, through compassion, award 
to the poor ? 

Get A. {apart.) Unless I knew the case, I could fancy he 
was saying the truth. 

Dem. Is there any judge who can possibly know your 
rights, when you yourself don't answer a word — as he has 
done ? 

Ppled. He acted the part of an ingenuous young man; 
after they had come before the judges, he was not able to 
say what he had intended, so much did his modesty confuse 
him there through his bashfulness. 

Geta. [apart.) I commend him: but why do I hesitate at 
once to accost the old man ? (Going forward to De:.iipho.) 
Master, welcome to you ! I'm glad to see you safe returned. 
Dem. (ironically.) Ah, excellent guardian ! save you, stay of 
my family, no doubt, to whom, at my departure, I entrusted 
my son. 

Geta. For some minutes past I've heard you accusing all 
of us undeservedly ; and me the most undeservedly of them 
all; for what would you have had me do for you in this 
affair ? The laws do not aliow a person who is a slave to 
plead; nor is there any giving evidence 1 on his part. 

Dem. I grant all that : I admit this too — the young man, 
unused to courts, was bashful ; I allow it : you, too, are a 
slave: still, if she was ever so near a relative, it was not 
necessary for him to marry her, but as the law enjoins, you 
might have given her a portion; 2 she could have looked out 
for another husband. Why, then, in preference, did he bring 
a pauper home ? 

1 Any giving evidence)— Ver. 293. Slaves were neither allowed to 
plead for themselves, nor to give evidence. See the Cureulio of Plautus, 
1. 621, and the Notes to the Andria. 

2 Given her a portion) — Yer. 297. By this remark, Donatus observes 
that Terence artfully prepares us for the imposition of Phormio, who 
extorts money from the old gentleman on this very ground. 



Sc. VII. THE SCHEMING PAHASITE. 319 

Geta. No particular reason; but lie hadn't the money. 

Dem. He might have borrowed it from some person or 
other. 

Geta. From some person or other ? Nothing more easily 
said. 

Dem. After all, if on no other terms, on interest. 

Geta. Aye, aye, fine talking; as if any one would have 
trusted him, while you were living. 1 

Dem. No, it shall not be so ; it must not be. Ought I to 
allow her to remain with frm as his wife a single day ? She 
merits no indulgence. I should like this fellow to be pointed 
out to me, or to be shown where he lives. 

Geta. Phormio, do you mean ? 

Dem. That fellow, the woman's next friend ?* 

Geta. I'll have him here immediately. 

Dem. Yv T here is Antipho at present ? 

Geta. Away from home. 

Dem. Go, Phaedria, look for him, and bring him here. 

Phjsd. I'll go straightway to the place. 

Geta. {aside.) To Pamphila, you mean. 

{Exeunt Ph^dbia and Geta. 

Scene VII. 

Demipho. alone. 

Dem. (to himself.) I'll just step home to salute the house- 
hold Gods. 3 Prom there, I'll go to the Forum, and sum- 

1 While you were living) — Ver. 302. There was a law at Athens which 
enacted, that persons who lent money to young men in the lifetime 
ot their parents, should have no power to recover it. In line 303 of the 
Pseudolus, Plautus alludes to the Quinavicenarian or Laetorian Law, at 
Rome, which forbade credit to be given to persons under the age of 
twenty-five years, and deprived the creditor of all right to recover 
his money or goods. 

2 The woman's next friend) — Ver. 307. The "patronus" was the 
person who undertook to conduct a lawsuit for another. 

3 Salute the household Gods) — Yer. 311. It was the custom for those 
returning from a voyage or journey, to give thanks to their household 
Gods for having protected them in their absence. Thus, in the 
Amphitryon of Plautus, Jupiter, while personating Amphitryon, pro* 
tends, in 1. 983, that he is going to offer sacrifice for Ms safe return. 



320 PHORMIO j OR, Act II. 

mon some of my friends to give me their assistance in this 
affair; so that I may not be unprepared, when Phormio 
comes. (Goes into his house.) 



ACT THE SECOND. 

Scene I. 

Enter Phormio and Geta. 

Phor. And so you say 1 that dreading his father's pre- 
sence, he has taken himself off ? 

Geta. Exactly so. 

Phor. That Phanium is left alone ? 

Geta. Just so. 

Phor. And that the old man is in a rage ? 

Geta. Extremely so. 

Phor. The whole business, Phormio, rests on yourself 
alone; you yourself have hashed it up; 2 it must all be 
swallowed by yourself, so set about it. 

Geta. I entreat you 

Phor. (to himself.) If he enquires. 

Geta. In you is all our hope. 

Phor. (to himself.) Look at this, now: — What if he sends 
her back ? 

Geta. It was you that urged us. 

1 And so you say) — Yer. 315. Donate tells the following story with 
reference to this passage : " This Play being once rehearsed before 
Terence and some of his most intimate acquaintances, Ambivius, who 
acted the part of Phormio, came in drunk, which threw the author into 
a violent passion; but Ambivius had scarcely repeated a few lines, 
stammering and scratching his head, before Terence became pacified, 
declaring that when he was writing these very lines, he had exactly 
such a Parasite as Ambivius then represented, in his thoughts." 

2 Have hashed it up) — Yer. 318. He is thought to allude here, 
figuratively, to the composition of a dish called "moretum," (in praise 
of which Yirgil wrote a poem), which was composed of garlic, onions, 
cheese, eggs, and other ingredients, beaten up in a mortar. The allusion 
to eating is appropriately used in an address to a Parasite. 



Sc. I. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 321 

Phor. (to himself.) I think that will do. 

Get a. Do help us. 

Phor. (with alacrity?) Let the old gentleman come; all my 
plans are now ready prepared in my mind. 

Geta. What will you do ? 

Phor. What would you have me ? But that Phanium 
may continue with Mm, and that I may clear Antipho from 
this charge, and turn upon myself 1 all the wrath of the old 
gentleman ? 

Geta. O brave and kind man ! But, Phormio, I often 
dread lest this courage may end in the stocks at last. 2 

Phor. Oh, by no means; I've made trial, and have already 
pondered on the paths for my feet. How many men before 
to-day do you suppose I have beaten, even to death, strangers 
as well as citizens : the better I understand it, the oftener 
I try it. Just tell me, look you, did you ever hear of an 
action of damages being brought against me ? 

Geta. How is that ? 

Phor. Because the net is never spread for the hawk or 
the kite, that do us the mischief; it is spread for those that 
do us none : because in the last there is profit, while with 
the others it is labour lost. Por persons, out of whom 
anything can be got, there's risk from others; they know 
that I've got nothing. You will say : " They will taka 
you, 3 when sentenced, into their house;" they have no wish 
to maintain a devouring fellow; and, in my opinion, they 
are wise, if for an injury they are unwilling to return the 
highest benefit. 

1 Turn upon myself) — Ver. 323. Donatus observes that in this 
Scene, Terence exhibits the lower order of Parasites, who ingratiated 
themselves by sharping and roguery, as in the Eunuchus he describes 
Parasites of a higher rank., and of a newer species, who obtained their 
ends by flattery. 

2 In the stocks at last) — Yer. 325. " In nervum crumpat denique." 
There are several interpretations suggested for these words. Some 
think they allude to the drawing of a bow till it breaks: but they are 
more generally thought to imply termination in corporal punishment. 
" ISTervus " is supposed to have been the name of a kind of stocks used 
in torturing slaves, and so called from being formed, in part at least, of 
the sinews ot animals. 

3 They will take you)— Yer. 334. At Eome, insolvent debtors became 
the slaves of their creditors till their debts were paid. 

Y 



322 PHORMIOj OR, Act II. 

Geta. It's impossible that sufficient thanks can be returned 
you by him for your kindness. 

Phor. Why no ; no person can return thanks sufficient to 
his patron 1 for his kindness. For you to take your place at 
table at free cost, 2 anointed and just washed at the bath, 
with your mind at ease, whereas he is devoured with the 
care and expense : while everything is being done to give 
you delight, he is being vexed at heart; you are laughing 
away, first to drink, 3 take the higher place; a banquet full 
of doubts 4 is placed before you 

Geta. What is the meaning of that expression ? 

Phor. When you are m doubt which in especial to partake 
of. When you enter upon a consideration how delicious these 
things are, and how costly they are, the person who provides 
them, must you not account him a very God — neither more 
nor less ? 

Geta. The old man is coming; take care what you are 
about; the first onset is the fiercest; if you stand that, then, 
afterwards, you may play just as you please. {They retire to 
a distance.) 

Scene II. 

Enter, at a distance, Demipho, Hegio, Ckatinus, and Crito, 

following him. 

Dem. Well now — did you ever hear of an injury being 
done to any person in a more affronting manner than this 
has to me ? Assist me, I do beg of you. 

Geta. (apart.) He's in a passion. 

1 To his patron) — Yer. 338. "Kegi." The Parasites were in the 
habit of calling their patron " Rex," their " King." 

2 At free cost) — Ver. 339. " Asymbolum." Without having paid his 
"symbola," or "club," for the entertainment. Donatus informs us 
that the whole of this passage is borrowed from one of Ennius, which is 
still preserved. 

3 First to drink) — Yer. 342. To be the first to drink, and to take the 
higher place on the couch when eating, was the privilege of the most 
honoured guests, who usually bathed, and were then anointed before the 
repast. 

4 Banquet full of doubts) — Yer. 342. "Ccena dubia." Horace, who 
borrows many of his phrases from Terence, uses the same expression. 



Sc. II. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 323 

Phor. {apart.) Do you mind your cue; I'll rouse him just 
now. {Stepping forward and crying aloud) Oh immortal 
Gods ! does Demipho deny that Phanium here is related to 
him? 

Geta. He does deny it. 

Dem. {to his friends.) I believe it is the very man I was 
speaking about. Follow me. {They all come forward) 

Phor. (to Geta.) And that he knows who her father 
was? 

Geta. He does deny it. 

Phor. And that he knows who Stilpho was ? 

Geta. He does deny it. 

Phor. Because the poor thing was left destitute, her father 
is disowned; she herself is slighted: see what avarice does. 

Geta. (in a loud voice.) If you are going to accuse my 
master of avarice, you shall hear what you won't like. 

Dem. Oh, the impudence of the fellow I Does he come on 
purpose to accuse me ? 

Phor. For really, I have no reason why I should be 
offended at the young man, if he did not know him ; since 
that person, when growing aged and poor, and supporting him- 
self by his labour, generally confined himself to the country; 
there he had a piece of land from my father to cultivate; 
full oft, in the meantime, did the old man tell me that this 
kinsman of his neglected him : but what a man ? The very 
best I ever saw in all my life. 

Geta. (in a loud voice.) Look to yourself as well as to him, 
how you speak. 

Phor. (with affected indignation.) Away, to utter perdition, 
with you. For if I had not formed such an opinion of him, I 
should never have incurred such enmity with your family on 
her account, whom he now slights in such an ungenerous 
manner. 

Geta. (aloud.) What, do you persist in speaking abusively 
of my master in his absence, you most abominable fellow ? 

Phor. Why, it's just what he deserves. 

Geta. (aloud.) Say you so, you gaol-bird ? 

Deji. (calling aloud.) Geta! 

Geta. (aloud.) A plunderer of people's property — a per- 
verter of the laws ! 

Dem. (calling aloud.) Geta ! 

y2 



324 phormio ; or, Act II. 

Phor. (apart, in a loiv voice.) Answer him. 

Geta. "Who is it ? (Looking round.) Oh ! 

Dem. Hold your peace. 

Geta. He has never left off uttering abuse against you be- 
hind your back, unworthy of you, and just befitting himself. 

Dem. Well now, have done. (Addressing Phormio.) Young 
man, in the first place, with your good leave, I ask you this, 
if you may possibly be pleased to give me an answer : explain 
to me who this friend of yours was, that you speak of, and 
how he said that he was related to me. 

Phor. (sneer ingly.) You are fishing it out, just as if you 
didn't know. 

Dem. I, know ? 

Phor. Yes. 

Dem. I say I do not ; you, who affirm it, recall it to my 
recollection. 

Phor. Come now ; didn't you know your own cousin- 
german ? 

Dem. You torture me to death; tell me his name. 

Phor. His name ? 

Dem. Of course. (Phormio hesitates.) Why are you silent 
now ? 

Phor. (aside.) Heavens, I'm undone ; I've forgot the 
name. 

Dem. Well, what do you say ? 

Phor. (aside, to Geta..) Geta, if you recollect the name 
I told you a short time since, prompt me. (Aloud, to 
Demipho) Well then, I shan't tell you; as if you didn't 
know, you come to pump me. 

Dem. I, come to pump you, indeed ? 

Geta. (whispering to Phormio.) Stilpho. 

Phor. But, after all, what matters that to me ? It is 
Stilpho. 

Dem. Whom did you say ? 

Phor. Stilpho, I tell you; you knew him. 

Dem. I neither know him, nor had I ever any relation 
of that name. 

Phor. Say you so ? Are you not ashamed of this ? But 
if he had left you ten talents 

Dem. May the Gods confound you ! 

Phor. You'd have been the first, from memory, to trace 



Sc. II. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 325 

your line of kindred, even as far back as from grandfather 
and great-grandfather. 

Dem. Yery likely what you say. In that case, when I had 
undertaken it, I should have shown how she was related to 
me • do you do the same : tell me, how is she related to me ? 

Geta, Well done, my master, that's right ! {Threateningly 
to Phormio.) Hark you, take you care. 

Phor. I've already made the matter quite plain where I 
ought, before the judges; besides, if it was untrue, why 
didn't your son disprove it ? 

Dem. Do you talk about my son to me ? Of whose folly 
there is no speaking in the language it deserves. 

Phor. Then do you, who are so wise, go to the magistrates, 
that for you they may give a second decision in the same cause, 
since you reign alone 1 here, and are the only man allowed to 
get a second trial in the same cause. 

Dem. Although wrong has been done me, still, however, 
rather than engage in litigation, or listen to you, just as 
though she had been my relation, as the law orders one to 
find her a portion, rid me of her, and take five mina?. 

Phor. {laughing.) Ha, ha, ha! a pleasant individual ! 

Dem. Well ! am I asking anything unfair ? Or am I not 
to obtain even this, wL Ick is my right at common law ? 

Phor. Pray, really is it so, that when you have abused 
her like a courtesan, the law orders you to pay her hire and 
pack her off ? Or is it the fact, that in order that a citizen 
may bring no disgrace upon herself through poverty, she has 
been ordered to be given to her nearest relative, to pass her 
life with him alone ? A thing which you mean to prevent. 

Dem ; Yes, to her- nearest relative, indeed ; but why to us, 
or on what ground ? 

Phor. Well, well, a thing tried, they say, you can't try 
over again. 

Dem. Not try it ? On the contrary, I shall not desist 
until I have s;one through with it. 

Phor. You are trifling. 

Dem. Only let me alone for that. 

1 Since you reign alone) — Ver. 605. This is a remark well put into 
the mouth of an Athenian, as the public were very jealous of any person 
becoming paramount to the laws, and to prevent it, were frequently 
guilty of the most odious oppression. 



326 PHORMIO; or, Act II. 

Phor. In short, Demipho, I have nothing to do with yon; 
your son has been cast, and not you; for your time of life 
for marrying has now gone by. 

Dem. Consider that it is he that says to you all I now 
say, or else assuredly, together with this wife of his, I'll be 
forbidding him the house. 

Get a. (aside.) He's in a passion. 

Phor. You'll be acting more considerately. 

Dem. Are you so resolved, you unlucky fellow, to do me 
all the mischief you can ? 

Phor. {aside, to Geta.) He's afraid of us, although he's 
so careful to conceal it. 

Geta. (aside, to Phormio.) Your beginning has turned out 
well. 

Phor. But if, on the contrary, you endure what must be 
endured, you'll be doing what's worthy of you, so that we 
may be on friendly terms. 

Dem. (indignantly.) What, I seek your friendship, or have 
any wish to see or hear you ? 

Phor. If you can agree with her, you will have some one 
to cheer up your old age ; just consider your time of life. 

Dem. Let her cheer up yourself; keep her to yourself. 

Phor. Peally, do moderate your passion. 

Dem. Mark what I say. There have been words enough 
already ; if you don't make haste to fetch away the woman, 
I shall turn her out : I have said it, Phormio. 

Phor. If you use her in any other manner than is befitting 
a free-born woman, I shall be bringing a swinge:'n^ action 
against you: I have said it, Demipho. (To Geta.) Hark you, 
if there should be any occasion for me, I shall be at home. 

Geta. (apart.) I understand you. (Exit Phormio. 



Scene III. 
Demipho, Hegio, Cratinus, Crito, and Geta. 

Dem. What care and anxiety my son does bring upon me, 
by entangling himself" and me in this same marriage ! And 
he doesn't so much as come into my sight, that at least I 
might know what he says about this matter, or what his 



Sc. III. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 327 

sentiments are. (To Geta,) Be off, go see whether he has 
returned home or not by this. 

Geta. I will. (Goes into the house.) 

Dem:. (to tJw Assistants.) Yon see how the case stands. 
What am I to do ? Tell me, Hegio. 

Heg. What ; I ? I think Orations ought, if it seems good 
to yon. 

Etoi. Tell me, Cratinus. 

Crat. What, do you wish me to speak ? I should like 
you to do what is most for your advantage; it is my opinion, 
that what this son of yours has done in your absence, in law 
and justice ought to be annulled ; and that you'll obtain 
redress. That's my opinion. 

Dem. Say now, Hegio. 

Heg. I believe that he has spoken with due deliberation; 
but it is the fact, "as many men, so many minds;' 1 every one 
his own way. It doesn't appear to me that what has been 
done by law can be revoked; and it is wrong to attempt it. 

Dem:. Speak, Crito. 

Chit. I am of opinion, that we must deliberate further; 2 
it is a matter of importance. 

Heg. Do you want anything further with us ? 

De:m. You have done very well. (Exeunt Assistants.) I 
am much more at a loss 3 than before. 

1 So many minds) — Ver. 454. "Quot homines, tot sententiee." This 
is a famous adage. One similar to the succeeding one is lound in the 
Second Eclogue of Virgil, 1.65: " Trahit sua quemque voluptas," 
exactly equivalent to our saving, " Every man to his taste." 

- Must deliberate further) — Ver. 457. ''Amplius deliberandum." 
This is probably a satirical allusion to the judicial system of procrasti- 
nation, which, by the Romans, was called "ampliatio." When the 
judges could not come to a satisfactory conclusion about a cause, they 
signified it by the letters X. L. (for "non liquet," "it is not clear"), 
and put off the suit for a rehearing. 

3 Much more at a loss) — Ver. 459. See the Pcenulus of Plautus, where 
advocates or assistants are introduced among the Dramatis Personse. 
Colman has the following remarks on this quaint passage : " I believe 
there is no Scene in Comedy more highly seasoned with the ridiculous 
than this before us. The idea is truly comic, and it is worked up with all 
that simplicity and chastity so peculiar to the manner of Terence. An 
ordinary writer would have indulged himself in twenty little conceits 
on this occasion; but the dry gravity of Terence infinitely surpasses, as 
true humour, all the drolleries which, perhaps, even those great masters 



328 PHORMIOj or, Act II. 

Re-enter Geta, from the house. 

Geta. They say that he has not come back. 

Dem. I must wait for my brother. The advice that he 
gives me about this matter, I shall follow. I'll go make 
enquiry at the harbour, when he is to come back. {Exit. 

Geta. And I'll go look for Antipho, that he may learn 
what has passed here. But look, I see him coming this way, 
just in the very nick of time. 

Scene IV. 
Enter Antipho, at a distance. 

Ant. {to himself.) Indeed, Antipho, in many ways you are 
to be blamed for these feelings; to have thus run away, and 
entrusted your existence to the protection of other people. 
Did you suppose that others would give more attention to 
your interests than your own self? For, however other 
matters stood, certainly you should have thought of her 
whom you have now at home, that she might not suffer any 
harm in consequence of her confiding in you, whose hopes 
and resources, poor thing, are all now centred in yourself 
alone. 

Geta. {coming forward.) Why really, master, we have 
for some time been censuring you here in your absence, for 
having thus gone away. 

Ant. You are the very person I was looking for. 

Geta. But still, we were not a bit the more remiss on that 
account. 

Ant, Tell me, I beg of you, in what posture are my interests 
and fortunes. Has my father any suspicion ? 

Geta. Not any at present. 

Ant. Is there still any hope ? 

Geta. I don't know. 

Ant. Alas! 

of Comedy, Plautus or Moliere, might have been tempted to throw out. 
It is the highest art of a Dramatic Author, on some occasions, to leave 
a good deal to the A.ctor; and it has been remarked by Heinsius and 
others, that Terence was particularly attentive to this circumstance/' 



Sc. V. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 329 

Geta. But Phaedria has not neglected to use his endeavours 
in your behalf. 

Ant. He did nothing new. 

Geta. Then Phorroio, too, in this matter, just as in every- 
thing else, showed himself a man of energy. 

Ant. What did he do ? 

Geta. With his words he silenced the old man, who was 
very angry. 

Ant. Well done, Phormio ! 

Geta. I, too, did all I could. 

Ant. My dear Geta, I love you all. 

Geta. The commencement is just in this position, as I tell 
you: matters, at present, are going on smoothly, and your 
father intends to wait for your uncle, till he arrives. 

Ant. Why him ? 

Geta. He said he was wishful to act by his advice, m 
all that relates to this business. 

Ant. How greatly now, Geta, I do dread my uncle's safe 
arrival ! For, according to his single sentence, from what I 
hear, I am to live or die. 

Geta. Here eomes Phaedria. 

Ant. Where is he, pray ? 

Geta. See, he's coming from his place of exercise. 1 



Scene Y. 
Enter from Dorio's house, Dorio, followed ly Ph^edria. 

Ph^:d. Prithee, hear me, Dorio. 

Dor. I'll not hear you. 

Ph.ed. Only a moment. 

Dor. Let me alone. 

Ph^ed. Do hear what I have to say. 

Dor. Why really I am tired of hearing the same thing a 
thousand times over. 

Ph^d. But now, I have something to tell you that you'll 
hear with pleasure. 

1 From Ids place of exercise) — Yer. 4S4. " Palaestra." He alludes 
to the Procurer's house under this name. 



330 phormio; or, Act II. 

Dor. Speak then ; I'm listening. 

Ph^d. Can I not prevail on you to wait for only three 
days ? Whither are you going now ? 

Dor. I was wondering if you had anything new to offer. 

Ant. (apart, to Geta.) I'm afraid for this Procurer, lest— — 

Geta. (apart, to Antipho.) Something may befall his own 
safety. 1 

Ph^ed. You don't believe me ? 

Dor. You guess right. 

Peled. But if I pledge my word. 

Dor. Nonsense ! 

Ph^d. You will have reason to say that this kindness was 
well laid out by you on interest. 

Dor. Stuff! 

Ph^ed. Believe me, you will be glad you did so ; upon my 
faith, it is the truth. 

Dor. Mere dreams ! 

Piled. Do but try; the time is not long. 

Dor. The same story over again. 

Ph,ed. You will he my kinsman, my father, my friend ; 
you — - 

Dor. Now, do prate on. 

Ph^ed. For you to be of a disposition so harsh and inex- 
orable, that neither by pity nor by entreaties can you be 
softened ! 

Dor. For you to be of a disposition so unreasonable and 
so unconscionable, Phaedria, that you can be talking me over 
with fine words, 2 and be for amusing yourself with what's my 
property for nothing ! 

Ant. (apart, to Geta.) I am soiry for him. 

Phjed. (aside.) Alas ! I feel it to be too true. 

Geta. (apart, to Antipho.) How well each keeps up to his 
character ! 

1 Befall his own safety) — Yer. 490. Overhearing Phsedria earnest 
and determined, and the Procurer obstinate and inflexible, Antipho 
and Geta join in apprehending that the brutality of the latter may pro- 
voke Phaedria to some act of violence. 

2 With fine words) — Yer. 499. " Phaleratis dictis." "Phalerae" were, 
properly, the silver ornaments with which horses were decked out, and 
being only for show, and not for use, gave rise to this saying. "Ductes" 
was an obscene word, and not likely to be used by any but such cha- 
racters as Dorio. 



Sc. Y. THE SCHEMING PAEASITE. 331 

Ph^d. (to himself.) And would that this misfortune had 
not befallen me at a time when Antipho was occupied with 
other cares as well. 

Ant. (coming forward.) Ah Phaedria, why, what is the 
matter ? 

Ph^d. O most fortunate Antipho ! 

Ant. What, I ?, 

Piled. To have in your possession the object of your love, 
and have no occasion to encounter such a nuisance as this. 

Ant. What I, in my possession ? Why yes, as the saying 
is, I've got a wolf by the ears ; x for I neither know how to 
get rid of her, nor yet how to keep her. 

Doe. That's just my case with regard to him (pointing to 

PHiEDRIA). 

Ant. (to Doeio.) Aye, aye, don't you show too little of 
the Procurer. (To Peledeia.) What has he been doing ? 

Ph.ed. What, he ? Acting the part of a most inhuman 
fellow ; been and sold my Pamphila. 

Geta. What ! Sold her ? 

Ant. Sold her, say you ? 

Ph.ed. Sold her. 

Doe. (ironically.) What a shocking crime — a wench bought 
with one's own money ! 

Phjed. I cannot prevail upon him to wait for me the next 
three days, and so far break off the bargain with the person, 
while I get the money from my friends, which has been pro- 
mised me ; if I don't give it him then, let him not wait a 
single hour longer. 

Doe. Very good. 

Ant. It's not a long time that he asks, Dorio; do let him 
prevail upon you; he'll pay you twofold for having acted 
to him thus obligingly. 

Dor. Mere words ! 

Ant. Will you allow Pamphila to be carried away from 
this place ? And then, besides, can you possibly allow their 
love to be severed asunder ? 

Doe. Neither I nor you cause that. 

1 A wolf by the ears) — Ver. 505. A proverbial expression which, 
according to Suetonius, was frequently in the mouth of Tiberius 
Caesar. 



332 phormio; or, Act II. 

Geta. May all the Gods grant you what you are deserving 
of! 

Dor. I have borne with you for several months quite 
against my inclination ; promising and whimpering, and yet 
bringing nothing; now, on the other hand, I have found one 
to pay, and not be snivelling; give place to your betters. 

Ant. I' faith, there surely was a day named, if I remember 
right, for you to pay him. 

Ph^ed. It is the fact. 

Dor. Do I deny it ? 

Ant. Is that day past, then ? 

Dor. No ; but this one has come before it. 

Ant. Are you not ashamed of your perfidy ? 

Dor. Not at all, so long as it is for my interest. 

Geta. Dunghill ! 

Ph^ed. Dorio, is it right, pray, for ^ou to act thus ? 

Dor. It is my way ; if I suit you, make use of me. 

Ant. Do you try to trifle with him (pointing to Ph^edria) 
in this manner ? 

Dor. Why really, on the contrary, Antipho, it's he trifling 
with me, for he knew me to be a person of this sort ; I sup- 
posed him to be quite a different man ; he has deceived me ; 
I'm not a bit different to him from what I was before. But 
however that may be, I'll yet do this; the captain has said, 
that to-morrow morning he will pay me the money ; if you 
bring it me before that, Phsedria, 111 follow my rule, that 
he is the first served who is the first to pay. Farewell ! 
(Goes into his house.) 

Scene VI. 
Peledria, Antipho, and Geta. 

Ph.ed. What am I to do ? Wretch that I am ! where am 
I now in this emergency to raise the money for him, I, who 
am worse than nothing ? If it had been possible for these 
three days to be obtained of him, it was promised me by then. 

Ant. Geta, shaft we suffer him to continue thus wretched, 
when he so lately assisted me in the kind way you were men- 
tioning ? On the contrary, why not, as there's need of it., 
try to do him a kindness in return ? 



Sc. VI. THE SCHEMING PAEASITE. 333 

Geta. For my part, I'm sure it is tut fair. 

Ant. Come then, you are the only man able to serve him. 

Geta. What can I do ? 

Ant. Procure the money. 

Geta. I wish I could; but where it is to come from — tell 
me that. 

Ant. My father has come home. 

Geta. I know; but what of that ? 

Ant. Oh, a word to the wise 1 is quite enough. 

Geta. Is that it, then ? 

Ant. Just so. 

Geta. Upon my faith, you really do give me fine advice ; 
out upon you ! Ought I not to be heartily glad, if I meet 
with no mishap through your marriage, but what, in addi- 
tion to that, you must now bid me, for his sake, to be seeking 
risk upon risk ? 

Ant. 'Tis true what he says. 

Ph^ed. What ! am I a stranger to you, Geta ? 

Geta. I don't consider you so. But is it so trifling a mat- 
ter that the old gentleman is now vexed with us all, that 
we must provoke him still more, and leave no room for 
entreaty ? 

Ph.ed. Is another man to take her away from before my 
eyes to some unknown spot ? Alas ! speak to me then, 
Antipho, and look upon me while you have the opportunity, 
and while I'm present. 

Ant. Why so, or what are you going to do ? Pray, tell 
me. 

Ph^ed. To whatever part of the world she is borne away, 
I'm determined to follow her or to perish. 

Geta. May the Gods prosper your design! Cautiously's 
the tcord, however. 

Ant. (to Geta.) Do see if you can give him any assistance 
at all. 

Geta. Any at all — how ? 

Ant. Pray, da try, that he mayn't be doing something 
that we may afterwards be more or less sorry for, Geta. 

Geta. I'm considering. (He pauses.) He's all safe, so far 
as I can guess : but still, I'm afraid of mischief. 

1 A icord to the vise) — Ver. 540. "Dictum sapienti sat est." The 
same proverb is found in the Persa of Plautus, 1. 736. 



334: phormio; or, Act III. 

Ant. Don't be afraid : together with you, we'll share good 
and bad. 

Geta. {to Ph^dria.) How much money do you want ? 
Tell me. 

Ph,ed. Only thirty minse. 

Geta. Thirty ? Heyday ! she's mcnstrous dear, Phsedria. 

Ph.ed. Indeed, she's very cheap. 

Geta. Well, well, I'll get them for you. 

Ph^ed. Oh the dear man ! {They loth fall to hugging 
Geta.) 

Geta. Take yourselves off. (ShaJces them off.) 

Ph,ed. There's need for them directly. 

Geta. You shall have them directly ; but I must have 
Phormio for my assistant in this business. 

Ant. He's quite ready; right boldly lay on him any load 
you like, he'll bear it : he, in especial, is a friend to his friend. 

Geta. Let's go to him at once then. 

Ant. Will you have any occasion for my assistance ? 

Geta. None; but be off home, and comfort that poor 
thino:, who I am sure is now in-doors almost dead with fear. 
Do you linger ? 

Ant. There's nothing I could do with so much pleasure. 
{Goes into the house of Demipho.) 

Ph^ed. What way will you manage this ? 

Geta. I'll tell you on the road; first thing, betake yourself 
off. {Exeunt. 



ACT THE THIED 

Scene I. 

Enter Demipho and Chremes. 

Dem. Well, have you brought your daughter with you, 
Chremes, for whom you went to Lemnos ? 

Chrem. No. 

Dem. Why not? 

Chrem. When her mother found that I stayed here longer 
than usual, and at the same time the age of the girl did not 



Sc. II. THE SCHEMING PAKASITE, 335 

suit with my delays, they told me that she, with all her 
family, set out in search of me. 

Dem. Pray, then, why did you stay there so long, when 
you had heard of this ? 

Chrem. Why, faith, a malady detained me. 

Dem. From what cause ? Or what was it ? 

Chrem. Do you ask me ? Old age itself is a malady. 
However, I heard that they had arrived safe, from the captain 
who brought them. 

Dem. Have you heard, Chremes, what has happened to 
my son, in my absence ? 

Chrem. 'Tis that, in fact, that has embarrassed me in my 
plans. For if I offer my daughter in marriage to any person 
that s a stranger, it must all be told how and by whom I 
had her. You I knew to be fully as faithful to me as I am 
to myself ; if a stranger shall think fit to be connected with 
me by marriage, he will hold his tongue, just as long as good 
terms exist between us : but if he takes a dislike to me, he'll 
be knowing more than it's proper he should know. I am 
afraid, too, lest my wife should, by some means, come to 
know of it ; if that is the case, it only remains for me to 
shake myself 1 and leave the house; for I'm the only one I 
can rely on at home. 2 

Dem. I know it is so, and that circumstance is a cause of 
anxiety to me; and I shall never cease trying, until I've made 
good what I promised you. 

Scene II. 

Enter Geta, on the other side of the stage, not seeing 
Demipho or Chremes. 

Geta. (to himself!) I never saw a more cunning fellow 
than this Phorrnio. I came to the fellow to tell him that 

1 To shake myself) — Ver. 585. "Me excutiam." In reference to 
the custom of the Greeks, and the Eastern nations, of shaking their 
clothes at the door of any house which they were going to leave. 

2 Rely on at home)— Ver. 586. " Nam ego meorum solus sum meus.' 
He means that he is the only person in his house friendly to himself, 
inasmuch as his wife, from her wealth, has supreme power over the 
domestics, in whom he himself can place no trust. 



336 phormio; or, Act III. 

money was needed, and by what means it might be procured. 
Hardly had I said one half, when he understood me; he was 
quite delighted ; complimented me ; asked where the old 
man was ; gave thanks to the Gods that an opportunity 
was afforded him for showing himself no less a friend to 
Phsedria than to Antipho : I bade the fellow wait for me at 
the Forum \ whither I would bring the old gentleman. But 
see, here's the very man {catching sight of the Old Man). Who 
is the further one ? Heyday, Phsedria's father has got 
back ! still, brute beast that I am, what was I afraid of ? 
Is it because two are presented instead of one for me to 
dupe ? I deem it preferable to enjoy a twofold hope. I'll try 
for it from him from whom I first intended : if he gives it me, 
well and good; if I can make nothing of him, then I'll 
attack this new comer. 



Scene III. 
Enter Antipho from the house 3 behind at a distance. 

Ant. {to himself) I'm expecting every moment that Geta 
will be here. But I see my uncle standing close by, with 
my father. Ah me ! how much I fear what influence his 
return may have upon my father ! 

Geta. {to himself) I'll accost them. {Goes up to them.) 
welcome to you, our neighbour Chremes. 

Chrem. Save you, Geta. 

Geta. I'm delighted to see you safe returned. 

Chrem. I believe you. 

Geta. How go matters ? 

Chrem. Many changes here upon my arrival, as usually 
the case. 

Geta. True; have you heard what has happened to 
Antipho ? 

Chrem. All. 

Geta. {to Demipho.) What, have you told him ? Dis- 
graceful conduct, Chremes, thus to be imposed on. 

Dem. It was about that I was talking to him just now. 

Geta. But really, on carefully reflecting upon this matter 
I think I have found a remedy. 



Sc. III. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 337 

Dem. What is the remedy ? 

Geta. When I left you, by accident Phormio met me. 

Chrem. Who is Phormio ? 

Geta. He who patronized her. 

Chrem. I understand. 

Geta. It seemed to me that I might first sound him; I 
took the fellow aside: "Phormio/' said I, "why don't we try 
to settle these matters between us rather with a good grace 
than with a bad one ? My master's a generous man, and 
one who hates litigation ; but really, upon my faith, all his 
friends were just now advising him with one voice to turn 
her instantly out of doors." 

Ant. {apart.) What is he about ? Or where is this to end 
at last ? 

Geta. {continuing the supposed conversation) " He'll have 
to give satisfaction at law, you say, if he turns her out ? 
That has been already enquired into : aye, aye, you'll have 
enough to do, if you engage with him; he is so eloquent. 
But suppose he's beaten; still, however, it's not his life, 
but his money that's at stake." After I found that the fellow 
was influenced by these words, I said : " We are now by 
ourselves here; come now, what should you like to be given 
you, money down, to drop this suit with my master, so that 
she may betake herself off, and you annoy us no more ?" 

Ant. {apart.) Are the Gods quite on good terms with 
him? 1 

Geta. {continuing tlie conversation.) " For I'm quite sure, 
if you were to mention anything that's fair and reasonable, 
as he is a reasonable man, you'll not have to bandy three 
words with him." 

Dem. Who ordered you to say so ? 

Chrem. Nay, he could not have more happily contrived to 
bring about what we want. 

Ant. {apart?) Undone ! 

Chrem. Go on with your story. 

Geta. At first the fellow raved. 

Dem. Say, what did he ask ? 

Geta. What ? A great deal too much. 

1 Good terms with him)— Yer. 635. Meaning, "Is he in his senses 

or not r 



338 pkormio; or Act III. 

Chrem. How mucli ? Tell me. 

Geta. Suppose he were to give a great talent. 

Dem. Aye, faith, perdition to him rather ; has he no 
shame ? 

Geta. Just what I said to him : " Pray," said I", " suppose 
he was portioning an only daughter of his own. It has been 
of little benefit that he hasn't one of his own, when another 
has been found to be demanding a fortune." To be brief, and 
to pass over his impertinences, this at last, was his final an- 
swer : " I," said he, " from the very first, have been desirous 
to marry the daughter of my friend, as was fit I should; for I 
was aware of the ill results of this, a poor wife being married 
into a rich family, and becoming a slave. But, as I am now 
conversing with you unreservedly, I was in want of a wife to 
bring me a little money with which to pay off my debts; 
and even yet, if Demipho is willing to give as much as I am 
to receive with her to whom I am engaged, there is no one 
whom I should better like for a wife." 

Ant. (apart.) Whether to say he's doing this through 
folly or mischief, through stupidity or design, I'm in doubt. 

Dem. What if he's in debt to the amount of his life ? l 

Geta. His land is mortgaged, — for ten minse he said. 

Dem. Well, well, let him take her then ; I'll give it. 

Geta. He has a house besides, mortgaged for another ten. 

Dem. Huy, huy ! that's too much. 

Chrem. Don't be crying out; you may have those ten of 
me. 

Geta. A lady's maid must be brought for his wife; and 
then too, a little more is wanted for some furniture, and some 
is wanted for the wedding expenses. " Well then," said he, 
" for these items, put down ten more." 

Dem. Then let him at once bring six hundred actions 2 
against me; I shall give nothing at all; is this dirty fellow 
to be laughing at me as well ? 

1 Amount of his life) — Yer. 660. u Quid si animam debet 1" Erasmus 
tells us that this was a proverb among the Greeks applied to those who 
ran so deeply in debt, that their persons, and consequently, in one 
sense, their very existence came into the power of their creditors. 

2 Six hundred actions) — Yer. 667. " Sescentos;" literally, "six hun- 
dred." The Romans used this term as we do the words "ten thousand/' 
to signify a large, but indefinite number. 



Sc. IY. THE SCHEMING PAEASITE. 339 

Chrem. Pray do be quiet ; I'll give it : do you only bring 
your son to marry the woman we want him to have. 

Ant. {apart.) Ah me ! Geta, you have ruined me by your 
treachery. 

Chrem. 'Tis on my account she's turned off; it's right that 
I should bear the loss. 

Geta. " Take care and let me know/' said he, " as soon as 
possible, if they are going to let me have her, that I may get 
rid of the other, so that I mayn't be in doubt ; for the others 
have agreed to pay me down the portion directly." 

Chrem. Let him have her at once; let him give notice to 
them that he breaks off the match with the other, and let 
him marry this woman. 

Dem. Yes, and little joy to him of the bargain ! 

Chrem. Luckily, too, I've now brought home some money 
with me, the rents which my wife's farms at Lemnos pro- 
duce. I'll take it out of that, and tell my wife that you had 
occasion for it. {They go into the house a/'Chremes.) 



Scene IY. 
Antipho and Geta. 

Ant. {coming forward. ,) Geta. 

Geta. Well. 

Ant. What have you been doing ? 

Geta. Diddling the old fellows out of their money. 

Ant. Is that quite the thing ? 

Geta. I' faith, I don't know : it's just what I was told 
to do. 

Ant. How now, whip-scoundrel, do you give me an 
answer to what I don't ask you ? {Kicks him.) 

Geta. -What was it then that you did ask ? 

Ant. What was it I did ask ? Through your agency, mat- 
ters have most undoubtedly come to the pass that I may go 
hang myself. May then 'all the Gods, Goddesses, Deities 
above and below, with every evil confound you ! Look now, 
if you wish anything to succeed, entrust it to him who may 
bring you from'smooth water on to a rock. What was there 
less advantageous than to touch upon this sore, or to name 

z2 






340 phormio; or, Act III. 

my wife ? Hopes have been excited in ray father that she 
may possibly be got rid of. Pray now, tell me, suppose 
Phormio receives the portion, she must be taken home by 
him as his wife : what's to become of me ? 

Geta. But he's not going to marry her. 

Ant. I know that. But (ironically) when they demand 
the money back, of course, for our sake, he'll prefer going to 
prison. 

Geta. There is nothing, Antipho, but what it may be made 
worse by being badly told : you leave out what is good, and 
you mention the bad. ISTow then, hear the other side : if he 
receives the money, she must be taken as his wife, you say; 
I grant you; still, some time at least will be allowed for 
preparing for the nuptials, for inviting, and for sacrificing. 
In the meantime, JPhcedrias friends will advance what they 
have promised ; out oi that he will repay it. 

Ant. On what grounds ? Or what will he say ? 

Geta. Do you ask the question? "How many circum- 
stances, since then, have befallen me as prodigies ? A 
strange black dog 1 entered the house; a snake came down 
from the tiles through the skylight; 2 a hen crowed; 3 the 
soothsayer forbade it; the diviner 4 warned me not: besides, 
before winter there is no sufficient reason for me to commence 
upon any new undertaking." This will be the case. 

Ant. I only wish it may be the case. 

Geta. It shall be the case; trust me for that. Your 
father's coming out; go tell Phsedria that the money is 
found. 

1 A strange black dog) — Ver. 705. This omen, Plautus calls, in the 
Casina, 1. 937, "canina scseva." 

2 Through the skylight)— Yer. 706. So in the Amphitryon of Plautus, 
1. 1108, two great snakes come down through the "impl avium," or 
" skylight." On the subject of the " impluvium," see the Notes to the 
Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, 1. 159. 

3 A hen crowed)— -Ver. 707. Donatus tells us that it was a saying, 
that in the house where a hen crowed, the wife had the upper hand. 

4 The soothsayer — the diviner) — Yer. 708. According to some 
accounts there was this difference between the "hariolus" and the 
"aruspex," that the former foretold human events, the latter those 
relating to the Deities. Donatus has remarked on these passages, that 
Terence seems to sneer at the superstitions referred to. 



Sc. V. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 341 



Scene V. 

"Enter Demipho and Chremes, from the house of the latter, 
the former with a purse of money. 

Dem. Do be quiet, I tell you; I'll take care lie shall not 
be playing any tricks upon us. I'll not rashly part with this 
without having my witnesses ; I'll have it stated to whom I 
pay it, and for what purpose I pay it. 

Geta. (apart.) How cautious he is, when there's no need 
for it ! 

Chrem. Why yes, you had need do so, and with all haste, 
while the fit is upon him; for if this other woman shall 
prove more pressing, perhaps he may throw us over. 

Geta. You've hit upon the very thing. 

Dem. Lead me to him then. 

Geta. I won't delay. 

Chrem. (to Demipho.) When you've done so, go over to 
my wife, that she may call upon her before she goes away. 
She must tell her that we are going to give her in marriage 
to Phormio, that she may not be angry with us; and that 
he is a fitter match for her, as knowing more of her; that 
we have in no way departed from our duty; that as much 
has been given for a portion as he asked for. 

Dem. What the plague does that matter to you ? 

Chrem. A great deal, Demipho. It is not enough for you 
to do your duty, if common report does not approve of it ; I 
wish all this to be done with her own sanction as well, that 
she mayn't be saying that she has been turned out of doors. 

Dem. I can do all that myself. 

Chrem. It will come better from one woman to another. 

Dem. I'll ask her. (Goes into the house of Chremes; and 
exit Geta.) 

Chrem. (to himself) I'm thinking where I can find them 
now. 1 

1 Can find them noiv) — Ver. 726. His Lemnian wife and daughter. 
Colman remarks : " This is intended as a transition to the next Scene ; 
but I think it would have been better if it had followed without this 
kind of introduction. The Scene itself is admirable, and is, in many 
places, both aitecting and comic, and the discovery of the real character 
of Phanium is made at a very proper time. 



342 phormio; or, Act III. 

Scene VI. 
Enter SoPHRONA/hm the house of Demipho, at a distance. 

Soph, (to herself.) What am I to do ? What friend, in my 
distress, shall I find, to whom to disclose these plans; and 
where shall I look for relief ? For I'm afraid that my mis- 
tress, in consequence of my advice, may undeservingly sustain 
some injury, so extremely ill do I hear that the young man's 
father takes what has happened. 

Chrem. (apart, to himself) But what old woman's this, 
that has come out of my brother's house, half dead with 
fright ? 

Soph, (to herself continuing.) It was distress that com- 
pelled me to this step, though I knew that the match was 
not likely to hold good; my object was, that in the meantime 
life might be supported. 

Chrem. (apart, to himself.) Upon my faith, surely, unless 
my recollection deceives me, or my sight's not very good, 
I espy my daughter's nurse. 1 

Soph, (to herself.) And we are not able to find 

Chrem. (apart.) What must I do ? 

Soph, (to herself) Her father. 

Chrem. (to himself apart.) Shall I accost her, or shall I 
wait to learn more distinctly what it is she's saying ? 

Soph, (to herself.) If now I could find him, there's nothing 
that I should be in fear of. 

Chrem. (apart, to himself aloud.) 'Tis the very woman. 
I'll address her. 

Soph, (turning round) Who's that speaking here ? 

Chrem. (coming forward.) Sophrona. 

Soph. Mentioning my name, too ? 

Chrem. Look round at me. 

Soph, (seeing him) Ye Gods, I do beseech you, isn't this 
Stilpho ? 

Chrem. No. 

1 My daughter's nurse)— -Yer. 735. Among the ancients, it was the 
custom for nurses who had brought up children to remain with them 
in after-life. 






Sc. VI. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 343 

Soph. Do you deny it ? 

Chrem. {in a low voice.) Step a little this way from that 
door, Sophrona, if you please {pointing). Don't you, hence- 
forth, be calling me by that name. 

Soph. "Why ? Pray, are you not the person you always 
used to say you were ? 

Chrem. Hush ! {pointing to Ms oini liouse). 

Soph. Why are you afraid about that door ? 

Chrem. {in a low voice.) I have got a shrew of a wife shut 
up there. For by that name I formerly falsely called myself, 
in order that you might not chance indiscreetly to blab it 
out of doors, and then my wife, by some means or other, 
might come to know of it. 

Soph. I' faith, that's the very reason why we, wretched 
creatures, have never been able to find you out here. 

Chrem. Well, but tell me, what business have you with 
that family from whose house you were coming out ? Where 
are the ladies ? l 

Soph. Ah, wretched me ! 

Chrem. Hah ! What's the matter ? Are they still alive ? 

Soph. Your daughter is alive. Her poor mother died of 
grief. 

Chrem. An unfortunate thing ! 

Soph. As for me, being a lone old woman, in want, and 
unknown, I contrived, as well as I could, to get the young 
woman married to the young man who is master of this house 
{pointing). 
t Chrem. What ! to Antipho ? 

Soph. The very same, I say. 

Chrem. What ? Has he got two wives ? 

Soph. Dear no, prithee, he has only got this one. 

Chrem. What about the other one that's called his 
relative ? 

Soph. Why, this is she. 

Chrem. What is it you say ? 

Soph. It was done on purpose, in order that her lover 
might be enabled to marry her without a portion. 

Chrem. Ye Gods, by our trust in you ! How often do those 
things come about through accident, which you couldn't dare 

1 Where are the ladies ?)— Yer. 748. "Ubi fflas?" literally, "Where 
are these women'?" 



344 PH0RMI0J or, Act IV. 

to hope for ? On my return, I have found my daughter 
matched with the very person I wished, and just as I wanted; 
a thing that we were both using our endeavours, with the 
greatest earnestness, to bring about. Without any very 
great management on our part, by her own management, she 
has by herself brought this about. 

Soph. Now consider what's to be done. The young man's 
father has returned, and they say that he bears this with 
feelings highly offended. 

Chrem. There's no danger of that. But, by Gods and 
men, do take care that no one comes to know that she's my 
daughter. 

Soph. No one shall know it from me. 

Chrem. Follow me ; in-doors we'll hear the rest. {He goes 
into Demipho's house, followed ly Sophrona.) 



ACT THE FOTJKTH. 

Scene I. 
Enter Demipho and Geta. 

Dem. 'Tis caused by our own fault, that it is advantageous 
to be dishonest ; while we wish ourselves to be styled very 
honest and generous. " So run away as not to run beyond 
the house," l as the saying is. Was it not enough to receive 
an injury from him, but money must be voluntarily offered 
him as well, that he may have something on which to sub- 
sist while he plans some other piece of roguery ? 

1 Run beyond the house) — Ver. 767. "Fugias ne prgeter casam." 
This passage has given much trouble to the Commentators ; but it is 
pretty clear that the explanation of Donstus is the correct one : " Don't 
abandon your own home," that being the safest place. Stallbaum 
agrees with Gronovius in thinking that it was first applied as a piece 
of advice to runaway slaves, as being likely to become worse ofi by the 
change; probably much in the same spirit as we say, "Out of the frying- 
pan into the fire." 



Sc. II. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 345 

Geta. Most clearly so. 

Dem. They now get rewarded for it, who confound right 
with wrong. 

Geta. Most undoubtedly. 

Dem. How very foolishly, in fact, we have managed the 
affair with him ! 

Geta. If by these means we can only manage for him to 
marry her. 

Dem. Is that, then, a matter of doubt ? 

Geta. I' faith, judging from what the fellow is, I don't 
know whether he mightn't change his mind. 

Dem. How ! change it indeed ? 

Geta. I don't know : but " if perhaps," I say. 

Dem. I'll do as my brother advised me, bring hither his 
wife, to talk with her. Do you, Geta, go before; tell her 
that Nausistrata is about to visit her. (Demipho goes into 
the house of Chremes.) 



Scene II. 

Geta, alone. 

Geta. The money's been got for Phaadria; it's all hushed 
about the law-suit; due care has been taken that she's not 
to leave for the present. What next, then ? What's to be 
done ? You are still sticking in the mud. You are paying 
by borrowing ; l the evil that was at hand, has been put off 
for a day. The toils are increasing upon you, if you don't 
look out. Now I'll away home, and tell Phanium not to 
be afraid of JNausistrata, or his talking. 2 (Goes into the 
house of Demipho.) 

1 Paying by borrowing)— -Yer '. 779. "Yersura solvere," was "to 
pay a debt by borrowing money," and consequently to be no better off 
than before. Geta having, by the money he has procured, freed 
PhEedria from all danger of losing his mistress, but at the same time 
having brought Antipho into still greater danger of losing his wife. 

2 Or his talking)— Yer. 7S2. "Ejus" here alludes, not to Xausistrata 
but to Phormio. Madame Dacier suggests, that it should be "hujus 



346 phormio; or, Act IY. 



Scene III. 

Enter Demipho and Nausistrata, from the house of 

Chremes. 

Dem. Come now, N"ausi strata, after your usual way, 
manage to keep her in good humour with us, and make her 
do of her own accord what must be done. 

Naus. I will. 

Dem, You are now seconding me with your endeavours, 
just as you assisted me with your money 1 before. 

Naus. I wish to do so ; and yet, i' faith, through the fault 
of my husband, I am less able than I ought to be. 

Dem. Why so ? 

Naus. Because, i' faith, he takes such indifferent care of 
the property that was so industriously acquired by my father; 
for from those farms he used regularly to receive two talents 
of silver yearly ; there's an instance, how superior one man is 
to another. 

Dem. Two talents, pray ? 

Naus. Aye, and when things were much worse, two talents 
even. 

Dem. Whew! 

Naus. What ! does this seem surprising ? 

Dem. Of course it does. 

Naus. I wish I had been born a man; I'd have shewn 

Dem. That I'm quite sure of. 

Naus. In what way 

Dem. Forbear, pray, that you may be able to do battle 
with her ; lest she, being a young woman, may be more than 
a match for you. 

Naus. I'll do as you bid me; but I see my husband 
coming out of your house. 

1 With your money) — Ver. 785. Colman observes: "Alluding to the 
money borrowed of her to pay Phormio ; and as Donatus observes in 
another place, it is admirably contrived, in order to bring about a 
humorous catastrophe, that Chremes should make use of his wife's 
money on this occasion." 



Sc. IV. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 347 

Scene IV. 
Enter Chremes, hastily, from Demipho's house. 
Chrem. Ha ! Demipho, lias the money been paid him 

yet? 

Dem. I took care immediately. 

Chrem. I wish it hadn't been paid him. (On seeing Nau- 
sistrata, aside.) Hallo, I espy my wife; I had almost said 
more than I ought. 

Dem. Why do you wish I hadn't, Chremes ? 

Chrem. It's all right. 

Dem. What say you ? Have you been letting her know 
why we are going to bring her ? (pointing to Nausistrata.) 

Chrem. I've arranged it. 

Dem. Pray, what does she say ? 

Chrem. She can't be got to leave. 

Dem. Why can't she ? 

Chrem. Because they are fond of one another. 

Dem. What's that to us ? 

Chrem. (apart, to Demipho.) A great deal; besides that, 
I've found out that she is related to us. 

Dem. (apart.) What ? You are mad, surely. 

Chrem. (apart) So you will find; I don't speak at ran- 
dom ; I've recovered my recollection. 

Dem. (apart.) Are you quite in your senses ? 

Chrem. (apart.) Nay, prithee, do take care not to injure 
your kinswoman. 

Dem, (apart.) She is not. 

Chrem. (apart.) Don't deny it; her father went by another 
name; that was the cause of your mistake. 

Dem. (apart.) Did she not know who was her fatherj 5 

Chrem. (apart.) She did. 

Dem. (apart.) Why did she call him by another name? 

Chrem. (apart, frowning.) Will you never yield to me, 
nor understand what I mean ? 

Dem. (apart) If you don't tell me of anything 

Chrem. (impatiently) Do you persist ? 

Naus. I wonder what all this can be. 

Dem. For my part, upon my faith, I don't know. 



348 phormio; or, Act IV. 

Chrem. (ivMspering to him) Would you like to know ? 
Then, so may Jupiter preserve rne, not a person is there 
more nearly related to her than are you and I. 

Dem. (starting.) Ye Gods, by our trust in you! let's away 
to her; I wish for all of us, one way or other, to be sure 
about this (going). v - 

Chrem. (stopping him.) Ah! 

Dem. What's the matter ? 

Chrem. That you should put so little confidence in me ! 

Dem. Do you wish me to believe you ? Do you wish me 
to consider this as quite certain ? Yery well, be it so. Well, 
what's to be done with our friend's 1 daughter ? 

Chrem. She'll do well enough. 

Dem. Are we to drop her, then ? 

Chrem. Why not ? 

Dem. The other one to stop ? 

Chrem. Just so. 

Dem. You may go then, Nausistrata. 

Naus. I' faith, I think it better for all that she should 
remain here as it is, than as yon first intended; for she 
seemed to me a very genteel person when I saw her. (Goes 
into her house.) 

Scene Y. 
Demipho and Chremes. 

Dem. What is the meaning of all this ? 

Chrem. (looking at the door of his house.) Has she shut 
the door yet ? 

Dem. Now she has. 

Chrem. Jupiter! the Gods do befriend us; I have found 
that it is my daughter married to your son. 

Dem. Ha ! How can that possibly be ? 

Chrem. This spot is not exactly suited for me to tell it 
you. 

Dem. Well then, step in-doors. 

Chrem. Hark you, I don't wish our sons even to come to 
know of this. (They go into Demipho's house.) 

1 Our friend's) — Yer. 811. Chremes himself is so called, to deceive 
Nausistrata. 



Sc. VII. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 349 

Scene VI. 

Enter Antipho. 

Ant. I'm glad that, however my own affairs go, my 
brother has succeeded in his wishes. How wise it is to 
cherish desires of that nature in the mind, that when things 
run counter, you may easily find a cure for them ! He has 
both got the money, and released himself from care; I, by no 
method, can extricate myself from these troubles; on the 
contrary, if the matter is concealed, I am in dread — but if 
disclosed, in disgrace. Neither should I now go home, were 
not a hope still presented me of retaining her. But where, 
I wonder, can I find Get a, that I may ask him what oppor- 
tunity he would recommend me to take for meeting my 
father ? 

Scene VII. 
Enter Phormio, at a distance. 

Phor. (to himself.) I received the money; handed it over 
to the Procurer; brought away the woman, that Phaedria 
might have her as his own — for she has now become free. 
Now there is one thing still remaining for me to manage, — 
to get a respite from the old gentlemen for carousing; for 
I'll enjoy myself the next few days. 

Ant. But here's Phormio. (Going up to him.) "What have 
you to say ? 

Phor. About what ? 

Ant. Why — what's Phaedria going to do now ? In what 
way does he say that he intends to take his fill of love ? 

Phor. In his turn, he's going to act your part. 

Ant. What part ? 

Phor. To run away from his father; he begs that you in 
your return will act on his behalf — to plead his cause for him. 
For he's going to carouse at my house. I shall tell the old man 
that I'm going to Sunium, to the fair, to purchase the female 
servant that Geta mentioned a while since, so that, when they 



350 . phormio; or, Act jlY. 

don't see me here, they mayn't suppose that I'm squandering 
their money. But there is a noise at the door of your house. 

Ant. See who's coming out. 

Phor. It's Geta. 



Scene VIII. 

Enter Geta, at a distance, hastily, from the house of 

Demipho. 

Geta. {to himself) fortune ! good luck I 1 with blessings 
how great, how suddenly has thou loaded this day with thy 
favours to my master Antipho ! 

Ant. [apart to Phormio.) I wonder what it is he means. 

Geta. {continuing.) And relieved us, his friends, from 
alarm; but I'm now delaying, in not throwing my cloak 2 
over my shoulder {throws it over his shoulder), and making 
haste to find him, that he may know what has happened. 

Ant. {apart to Phormio.) Do you understand what he's 
talking about ? 

Phor. {apart to Antipho.) Do you? 

Ant. {apart to Phormio.) Not at all. 

Phor. {apart to Antipho.) And I just as much. 

Geta. {to himself) I'll be off hence to the Procurer's; 
they are there just now. {Runs along.) 

Ant. {calling out.) Hallo ! Geta ! 

Geta. {still running.) There's for you. Is it anything 
new or wonderful to be called back, directly you've started ? 

Ant. Geta! 

Geta. Do you persist? Troth, you shall not on this 
occasion get the better of me by your annoyance. 

Ant. {running after him) Won't you stop ? 

Geta. You'll be getting a beating. 

Ant. Assuredly that will befall yourself just now unless 
you stop, you whip-knave. 

1 good luck)— Ver. 840. " Fors fortuna," "good fortune;" while 
" fortuna " merely means " chance. ' ' 

2 Throwing my cloak)— Yer. 843. When expedition was required, it 
was usual to throw the ends of the " pallium," or " cloak," over the 
shoulders. 



Sc. YIII. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 351 

Geta. This must be some one pretty familiar, threatening 
me with a beating. {Turns round.) But is it the person Tin in 
search of or not ? 'Tis the very man ! Up to him at once. 

Ant. What's the matter ? 

Geta. being most blessed of all men living ! For without 
question, Antipho, you are the only favourite of the Gods. 

Ant. So I could wish; but I should like to be told why 
I'm to believe it is so. 

Geta. Is it enough if I plunge you into a sea of joy ? 

Ant. You are worrying me to death. 

Phor. jSay but, do have done with your promises and 
tell us what you bring. 

Geta. {looking round.) Oh, are you here too, Phormio ? 

Phor. I am : but icliy do you delay ? 

Geta. Listen, then. When we just now paid you the 
money at the Forum, we went straight to Chrenies; in the 
meantime, my master sent me to your wife. 

Ant. What for ? 

Geta. I'll omit telling you that, as it is nothing to the 
present purpose, Antipho. Just as I was going to . the 
woman's apartments, the boy Mida came running up to me, 
and caught me behind by my cloak, and pulled me back; I 
turned about, and enquired for what reason he stopped me; 
he said that it was forbidden for any one to go in to his 
mistress. "Sophrona has just now," said he, " introduced 
here Chremes, the old gentleman's brother," and he said that 
he was then in the room with them : when I heard this, on 
tip-toe I stole softly along; I came there, stood, held my 
breath, I applied my ear, and so began to listen, catching the 
conversation every word in this fashion {shows them). 

Ant. Well done, Geta. 

Geta. Here I overheard a very pretty piece of business ; 
so much so that I had nearly cried out for joy. 

Ant. What teas it ? 

Geta. (laughing.) What do you think ? 

Ant. I don't know. 

Geta. Why, something most marvellous. Your uncle has 
been discovered to be the father of your wife, Phanium. 

Ant. {starting) Hah ! what's that you say ? 

Geta. He formerly cohabited secretly with her mother at 
Lemnos. 



352 phormio; or, Act IY. 

Phor. A dream: how could she be ignorant about her 
own father ? 

G-eta. Be sure, Phormio, that there is some reason: but 
do you suppose that, outside of the door, I was able to 
understand everything that passed between them within ? 

Ant. On my faith, I too have heard the same story. 

Geta. Aye, and I'll give you still further reason for believ- 
ing it: your uncle in the meantime came out from there; not 
long after he returned again, with your father; each said 
that he gave you permission to retain her ; in fine, I've been 
sent to find you, and bring you to them. 

Ant. Why then carry me off 1 at once; — why do you 
delay ? 

Geta. I'll do so. 

Ant. my dear Phormio, farewell ! 

Phor. Farewell, Antipho. (Antipho and Geta go into 
Demipho's house.) 



Scene IX. 
Phormio, alone. 

Phor. So may the Gods bless me, this has turned out 
luckily. I'm glad of it, that such good fortune has thus 
suddenly befallen them. I have now an excellent oppor- 
tunity for diddling the old men, and ridding Phsedria of 
all anxiety about the money, so that he mayn't be under the 
necessity of applying to any of his companions. For this 
same money, as it has been given him, shall be given for good, 
whether they like it or not : how to force them to this, I've 
found out the very way. I must now assume a new air and 
countenance. But I'll betake myself off to this next alley; 

1 Carry me off) — Ver. 881. Madame Dacier says that Antipho is so 
rejoiced here at Geta's news, that he jumps upon his shoulders, and is 
carried oft in triumph, which was a sort of stage -trick, and was very 
diverting to the Audience. On this, Colman observes : " I believe 
Madame Dacier has not the least foundation for this extraordinary 
piece of information ; and I must confess, that I have too high an 
opinion, both or the Roman audience and actors, to believe it to be 
true." 



Act V., Sc. I. THE SCHEMING PAEASITE. 353 

from that spot I'll present myself to them, when they come 
out of doors. I shan't go to the fair, where I pretended I was 
going. (He retires into the alley) 



ACT THE FIFTH. 

Scene L 

Enter Demipho and Chkemes, from Demipho's house. 

Dem. I do give and return hearty thanks to the Gods, and 
with reason, brother, inasmuch as these matters have turned 
out for us so fortunately. We must now meet with Phor- 
mio as soon as possible, before he squanders our thirty minae, 
so that we may get them from him. 

Enter Phormio, coming forward, and speaking aloud, 
as though not seeing them. 

Pkor. I'll go see if Demipho's at home; that as to what 1 

Dem. {accosting him.) Why, Phormio, we were coming to 
you. 

Phor. Perhaps about the very same affair. (Dehitro nods 
assent.) I' faith, I thought so. What were you coming to 
my house for? Ridiculous; are you afraid that I shan't do 
what I have once undertaken ? Hark you, whatever is my 
poverty, still, of this one thing I have taken due care, not 
to forfeit my word. 

Cheek, (to Bemipho.) Is she not genteel-looking, 2 just 
as I told you ? 

1 That as to what) — Ver. S9S. Lemaire suggest that he is about to 
say : " that as to what was agreed upon between us, I may take home 
this young woman, and make her my wife." 

- Is she not genteel-looking) — Yer. 904. Patrick has the following 
note here : " One cannot conceive anything more happy or just than 
these words of Chremes. Demipho s thoughts are wholly taken up 
how to recover the money, and Phormio is equally solicitous to retain 
it ; hut Chremes, who had just left his daughter, is regardless of their 
discourse, and fresh from the impressions which she had made on him, 
longs to know if his brothers sentiments of her were equahy favourable, 
and naturally puts this paternal question to him." 

2 A 



354 phoemio; or, Act Y. 

Dem. Very much so. 

Phob. And this is what I'm come to tell you, Demipho, 
that I'm quite ready; whenever you please, give me my wife. 
Tor I postponed all my other business, as was fit I should, when 
I understood that you were so very desirous to have it so. 

Dem. {pointing to Chremes.) But he has dissuaded me 
from giving her to you. " For what," says he, " will be the 
talk among people if you do this? Formerly, when she 
might have been handsomely disposed of, then she wasn't 
given ; now, it's a disgrace for her to be turned out of doors, 
a repudiated woman;" pretty nearly, in fact, all the reasons 
which you yourself, some little time since, were urging to 
me. 

Phor. Upon my faith, you are treating me in a very 
insulting manner. 

Dem. How so ? 

Phor. Do you ask me ? Because I shall not be able 
to marry the other person I mentioned ; for with what face 
shall I return to her whom I've slighted ? 

Ciirem. Then besides, I see that Antipho is unwilling to 
part with her. {Aside, prompting Demipho.) Say so. 

Dem. Then besides, I see that my son is very unwilling to 
part with the damsel. But have the goodness to step over 
to the Forum, and order this money to be transferred to 
my account, 1 Phormio. 

Phor. What, when I've paid it over to the persons to 
whom I was indebted ? 

Dem. What's to be clone, then ? 

Phor. If you will let me have her for a wife, as you pro- 
mised, I'll take her; but if you prefer that she should stay 
with you, the portion must stay with me, Demipho. For 
it isn't fair that I should be misled for you, as it was for 
your own sakes that I broke off with the other woman, who 
was to have brought me a portion just as large. 

Dem. Away with you to utter perdition, with this swag- 
gering, you vagabond. What, then, do you fancy we don't 
know you, or your doings ? 

1 Transferred to my account) — Yer. 921. "Rescribere argentum," 
or "nummos," meant "to transfer/' or "set down money to the account 
of another person in one s banker's books." A passage in the Asinaria 
of Plautus, 1. 445 seems to have the same meaning. 



Sc. I. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 355 

Phor. You are provoking nie. 

Dem. Would you have married her, if she had been given 
to you ? 

Phor. Try the experiment. 

Dem. That my son might cohabit with her at your house, 
that was your design. 

Phor. Pray, what is that you say ? 

Dem. Then do you give me my money ? 

Phor. Nay, but do you give me my wife ? 

Dem. Come before a magistrate. (Going to seize hold of 
him.) 

Phor. Why, really, if you persist in being troublesome — 

Dem. What will you do ? 

Phor. What, I ? You fancy, perhaps, just now, that I 
am the protector of the portionless; for the well portioned. 1 
I'm in the habit of oeing so as well. 

Chrem. What's that to us ? 

Phor. (with a careless air.) Nothing at ail. I know a 
certain lady here (pointing at Chremes's house) whose hus- 
band had 

Chrem. (starting.) Ha! 

Dem. What's the matter ? 

Phor. Another wife at Lemnos 

Chrem. (aside.) Pm ruined ! 

Phor. By whom he had a daughter; and her he is secretly 
bringing up. 

Chrem. (aside.) Pm dead and buried ! 

Phor. This I shall assuredly now inform her of. (Walks 
towards the house.) 

Chrem. (running and catching hold of him.) I beg of you, 
don't do so. 

Phor. (with a careless air.) Oh, were you the person ? 

Dem. What a jest he's making of us. 

Chrem. (to Phormio.) We'll let you off. 

Phor. Nonsense. 

Chrem. What would you have ? We'll forgive you the 
money you've got. 

Phor. I hear you. Why the plague, then, do you two 
trifle with me in this way, you silly men, with your childish 

1 For the well portioned) — Yer. 939. Though Colman thinks other- 
wise, it is pretty clear that he alludes to Nausistrata in these words. 

2a2 



356 phormio; ok, ActV. 

speeches — " I won't, and I will ; I will, and I won't," over 
again; "keep it, give it me back; what has been said, is 
unsaid ; what had been just a bargain, is now no bargain." 

Chrem. (aside, to Demipho.) In what manner, or from 
whom has he come to know of this ? 

Dem. (aside.) I don't know; but that I've told it to no 
one, I know for certain. 

Ciirem. (aside.) So may the Gods bless me, 'tis as good as 
a miracle. 

Phor. (aside, to himself.) I've gravelled them. 

Dem:. (apart, to Chremes.) Well now, is he to be carrying 
off 1 from us such a sum of money as this, and so palpably to 
impose upon us ? By heavens, I'd sooner die. Manage to 
show yourself of resolute and ready wit. You see that this 
slip of yours has got abroad, and that you cannot now possibly 
conceal it from your wife ; it is then more conducive to our 
quiet, Chremes, ourselves to disclose what she will be hearing 
from others; and then, in our own fashion, we shall be able 
to take vengeance upon this dirty fellow, 

Phor. (aside, to himself.) Good lack-a-day, how's the stick- 
ing point, if I don't look out for myself. They are making 
towards me with a gladiatorial air. 

Chrem. (apart, to Demipho.) But I doubt whether it's 
possible for her to be appeased. 

Dem. (apart, to Chremes.) Be of good courage ; I'll effect 
a reconciliation between you; remembering this, Chremes, 
that she is dead and gone 2 by whom you had this girl. 

Phor. (in a loud voice) Is this the way you are going to 
deal with me ? Very cleverly done. Come on with you. 
By heavens, Demipho, you have provoked me, not to his 
advantage (pointing at Chremes). How say you? (addressing 
Chremes). When you've been doing abroad just as you 
pleased, and have had no regard for this excellent lady 

1 To be carrying off) — Ver. 954. Patrick has the following note 
here : " The different characters of the two brothers are admirably pre- 
served throughout this Scene. Chremes stands greatly in awe of his 
wife, and will submit to anything rather than the story should come to 
her ears ; but Demipho cannot brook the thoughts of losing so much 
money, and encourages his brother to behave with spirit and resolution,, 
promising to make up matters between him and his wife." 

2 Dead and gone)— Yer. 9&5. "E medio excedere," was an Euphemism 
signifying * to die," which it was deemed of ill omen to mention. 



Sc. I. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 357 

here, but on the contrary, have been Injuring her in an 
unheard-of manner, would you be coming to me with prayers 
to wash away your offences ? On telling her of this, I'll 
make her so incensed with you, that you shan't quench 
her, though you should melt away into tears. 

Dem. {aside.) A plague may all the Gods and Goddesses 
send upon him. That any fellow should be possessed of so 
much impudence ! Does not this villain deserve to be 
transported hence to some desolate land at the public 
charge ? 

Chrem. {aside) I am brought to such a pass, that I really 
don't know what to do in it. 

Dem. I know ; let's go into court. 

Phor. Into court ? Here in preference {pointing to 
Chremes's house), if it suits you in any way. {Moves 
towards tlie house.) 

Dem. {to Chremes.) Follow him, and hold him back, till I 
call out the servants. 

Chrem. {trying to seize Phormio.) But I can't by myself; 
run and help me. 

Phor. {to Demipho, ivho seizes hold of him.) There's one 
action of damages against you. 

Chrem. Sue him at law, then. 

Phor. And another with you, Chremes. 

Dem. Lay hold of him. {They loth drag him). 

Phor. Is it thus you do ? Why then I must exert my 
voice : Nausistrata, come out {calling aloud). 

Chrem. {to Demipho.) Stop his mouth. 

Dem. See how strong the rascal is. 

Phor. {calling aloud.) Nausistrata, I say. 

Chrem. Will you not hold your tongue ? 

Phor. Hold my tongue ? 

Dem. {to Chremes, as they drag him along.) If he won't 
follow, plant your fists in his stomach. 

Phor. Or e'en gouge out an eye. The time's coming when 
I shall have a full revenge on you. 



358 PH0RMI0; ok, Act V. 

; Scene II. 

Enter Nausistrata, in liasie, from tlie lions e. 

Naus. Who calls my nanie ? 

Chrem. (in alarm?) Ha ! 

Naus. My husband, pray what means this disturbance ? 

Phor. (to Chremes.) Oh, oh, why are you mute now ? 

Naus. Who is this man ? Won't you answer me ? 

Phor. What, he to answer you ? who, upon my faith, 
doesn't know where he is. 

Chrem. (to Nausistrata.) Take care how you believe that 
fellow in anything. 

Phor. (to Nausistrata.) Go, touch him; if he isn't in a 
cold sweat all over, why then kill me. 

Chrem. Tis nothing at all. 

Naus. What is it, then, that this person is talking 
about ? 

Phor. You shall know directly; listen now. 

Chrem. Are you resolved to believe him ? 

Naus. Pray, how can I believe him, when he has told 
me nothing ? 

Phor. The poor creature is distracted from fright. 

Naus. It isn't for nothing, i' faith, that you are in such a 
fright. 

Chrem. What, I in a fright ? 

Phor. (to Chremes.) All right, of course : since you aro 
not in a fright at all, and this is nothing at all that I'm 
going to tell, do you relate it. 

Dem. Villain, is he to relate it at your request ? 

Phor. (to Demipho.) Come now, you've managed nicely 
for your brother. 

Naus. My husband, will you not tell me ? 

Chrem. But 

Naus. But what ? 

Chrem. There's no need to tell you. 

Phor. Not for you, indeed; but there's need for her to 
know it. At Lemnos 

Chrem. (starting!) Ha ! what are you doing ? 






Sc. II. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 35$ 

Dem. (to Phormio.) Won't you hold your tongue ? 

Phor. (to Nausistrata.) Unknown to you 

Chrem. Ah me ! 

Phor. He married another 

Naus. My clear sir, may the Gods forbid it 1 

Phor. Such is the fact. 

Naus. Wretch that I am, I'm undone ! 

Phor. And had a daughter by her, too, while you never 
dreamt of it. 

Chrem. What are we to do ? 

Naus. O immortal Gods ! — a disgraceful and a wicked 
misdeed ! 

Dem. (aside, to Chremes.) It's all up with you. 

Phor. Was ever anything now more ungenerously done ? 
Your men, who, when they come to their wives, then 
become incapacitated from old age. 

Naus. Demipho, I appeal to you ; for with that man it is 
irksome for me to speak. Were these those frequent journeys 
and long visits at Lemnos ? Was this the lowness of prices 
that reduced our rents ? 

Dem. Nausistrata, I don't deny that in this matter, he 
has been deserving of censure ; but still, it may be pardoned. 

Phor. (apart.) He is talking to the dead. 

Dem. For he did this neither through neglect or aversion 
to yourself. About fifteen years since, in a drunken fit, he 
had an intrigue with this poor woman, of whom this girl was 
born, nor did he ever touch her afterwards. She is dead 
and gone: the only difficulty that remained in this matter. 
Wherefore, I do beg of you, that, as in other things, you'll 
bear this with patience. 

Naus. Why should I with patience ? I could wish, 
afflicted as I am, that there were an end now of this matter. 
But how can I hope ? Am I to suppose, that at his age, 
he will not offend in future ? Was he not an old man 
then, if old age makes people behave themselves decently ? 
Are my looks and my age more attractive now, Demipho ? 
What do you advance to me, to make me expect or hope 
that this will not happen any more ? 

Phor. (in a loud voice.) Those who have 1 a mind to come 

1 Those who have) — Ver. 1025. He here uses the terms wMch it was 



360 phormio; or, Act V. 

to the funeral of Chremes, why now's their time. 'Tis thus 
I retaliate: come now, let him challenge Phormio who 
pleases : I'll have him victimized 1 with just a like mischance. 
Why then, let him return again into her good graces. 
I have now had revenge enough. She has got something 
for her as long as she lives, to be for ever ringing into 
his ears. 

Naus. But it was because I deserved this, I suppose ; why 
should I now, Demipho, make mention of each particular, 
how I have conducted myself towards him ? 

Dem. I know it all, as well as yourself. 

Naus. Does it appear, then, that I deserved this treat- 
ment ? 

Dem. Ear from it: but since, by reproaching, it cannot 
now be undone, forgive him : he entreats you — he begs your 
pardon — owns his fault — makes an apology. What would 
you have more ? 

Phor. (aside) But really, before she grants pardon to 
him, I must take care of myself and Phsedria. (To JNTausi- 
strata.) Hark you, Nausistrata, before you answer him 
without thinking, listen to me. 

Naus. What's the matter ? 

Phor. I got out of him thirty minse by a stratagem. 
I give them to your son ; he paid them to a Procurer for his 
mistress. 

Chrem. Ha ! what is it you say ? 

Phor. (sneeringly.) Does it seem to you so very im- 
proper for your son, a young man, to keep one mistress, 
u'Mle you have two wives ? Are you ashamed of 
nothing ? With what face will you censure him ? Answer 
me that. 

Dem. He shall do as you wish. 

Naus. Nay, that you may now know my determination, I 
neither forgive nor promise anything, nor give any answer, 

customary to employ in the celebration of a public funeral. See also the 
form of proclaiming an auction, at the end of the Menaechmi of Plautus. 
1 Have him victimized) — Ver. 1027. "Mactatus" was the term 
applied to the pouring of wine and frankincense on the victim about to 
be sacrificed, on which it was said to be "magis auctus/' "increased," 
or "amplified;" which, in time, became corrupted into the word 
"mactatus," or "mactus." 



Sc. II. THE SCHEMING PARASITE. 361 

before I see my son : to his decision I leave everything. 
"What he bids me, I shall do. 

Dem. You are a wise woman, Nausistrata. 

Naus. Does that satisfy yon, Chremes ? 

Chrem. Yes, indeed, I come off well, and fully to my 
satisfaction ; indeed, beyond my expectation. 

Naus. (to Phor^iio.) Do you tell me, what is your 
name ? 

Phor. What mine ? Phormio ; a well-wisher to your 
family, upon my honour, and to your son PhaBclria in par- 
ticular. 

Naus. Then, Phormio, on my word, henceforward I'll 
both do and say for you all I can, and whatever you may 
desire. 

Phor. You speak obligingly. 

Naus. I' faith, it is as you deserve. 

Phor. First, then, will you do this, Nausistrata, at once, 
to please me, and to make your husband's eyes ache with 
vexation ? 

Naus. With all my heart. 

Phor. Invite me to dinner. 

Naus. Assuredly indeed, I do invite you. 

Dem. Let us now away in-doors. 

Chrem. By all means ; but where is Phsedria, our arbi 
trator ? 

Phor. Ill have him here just now. (To the Audience.) 
Fare you well, and grant us your applause. 1 

1 Grant us your applause) — Yer. 1054. Thus concludes the last, 
and certainly not the least meritorious of the Plays of our Author; 
indeed, for genuine comic spirit, it may challenge comparison with the 
Eunuch, which is in general cousidered to be the best. 



362 phokmio; or, 

Additional Scene. 
{Wliicli is generally considered to he spurious.) 

Enter Ph^edria and Phormio, from opposite sides of the 

stage. 

Ph^ed. Assuredly there is a God, who both hears and sees 
what we do. And I do not consider that to be true which is 
commonly said : " Fortune frames and fashions the affairs of 
mankind, just as she pleases." 

Phor. {aside.) Heyday ! what means this ? I've met 
with Socrates, not Phseclria, so far as I see. Why hesi- 
tate to go up and address him ? {Accosting him.) How 
now, Phsedria, whence have you acquired this new wisdom, 
and derived such great delight, as you show by your coun- 
tenance ? 

Phjed. O welcome, my friend; most delightful Phormio, 
welcome ! There's not a person in all the world I could more 
wish just now to meet than yourself. 

Phor. Pray, tell me what is the matter. 

Ph^ed. Aye, faith, I have to beg of you, that you will 
listen to it. My Pamphila is a citizen of Attica, and of 
noble birth, and rich. 

Phor. What is it you tell me ? Are you dreaming, 
pray ? 

Ph^d. Upon my faith, I'm saying what's true. 

Phor. Yes, and this, too, is a true saying : "You'll have 
no great difficulty in believing that to be true, which you 
greatly wish to he so." 

Ph^ed. Nay, but do listen, I beg of you, to all the 
wonderful things I have to tell you of. It was while thinking 
of this to myself, that I just now burst forth into those 
expressions which you heard — that we, and what relates 
to us, are ruled by the sanction of the Gods, and not 
hj blind chance. 

Phor. I've been for some time in a state of suspense. 

Ph^ed. Do you know Phanocrates ? 

Phor. As well as I do yourself. 



THE SCHEMING PARASITE. .... 363 

Ph,ed. The rich man ? 

Phor. I understand. 

Ph^ed. He is the father of Pamphila. Not to detain 
you, these were the circumstances : Calchas was his ser- 
vant, a worthless, wicked fellow. Intending to run away 
from the house, he carried off this girl, whom her father 
was bringing up in the country, then five years old, 
and, secretly taking her with him to Eubsga, sold her to 
Lycus, a merchant. This person, a long time after, 
sold her, when now grown up, to Doric She, however, 
knew that she was the daughter of parents of rank, inas- 
much as she recollected herself being attended and trained 
up by female servants : the name of her parents she didn't 
recollect. 

Phor. How, then, were they discovered ? 

PodSD. Stay; I was coming to that. This runaway 
was caught yesterday, and sent back to Phanocrates : he 
related the wonderful circumstances I have mentioned about 
the girl, and how she was sold to Lycus, and afterwards 
to Dorio. Phanocrates sent immediately, and claimed his 
daughter ; but when he learned that she had been sold, 
he came running to me. 

Phor. 0, how extremely fortunate ! 

Ph^ed. Phanocrates has no objection to my marrying 
her; nor has my father, I imagine. 

Phor. Trust me for that ; I'll have all this matter 
managed for you; Phormio has so arranged it, that you 
shall not be a suppliant to your father, but his judge. 

Ph,ed. You are joking. 

Phor. So it is, I tell you. Do you only give me the 
thirty nrinee which Dorio 

Ph^:d. You put me well in mind ; I understand you ; 
you may have them ; for he must give them back, as the 
law forbids a free woman to be sold ; and, on my faith, 
I do rejoice that an opportunity is afforded me of rewarding 
you, and taking a hearty vengeance upon him ; a monster 
of a fellow ! he has feelings more hardened than iron. 

Phor. Now, Phaedria, I return you thanks; I'll make 
you a return upon occasion, if ever I have the opportunity. 
You impose a heavy task upon me, to be contending 
with you in good offices, as I cannot in wealth; and in 



364 phormio; OB, THE scheming parasite. 

affection and zeal, I must repay you what I owe. To be 
surpassed in deserving well, is a disgrace to a man of 
principle. 

Ph,ed. Services badly bestowed, I take to be disservices. 
But I do not know any person more grateful and more 
mindful of a service tlian yourself. What is it you were 
just now mentioning about my father ? 

Phor. There are many particulars, which at present I 
have not the opportunity to relate. Let's go in-doors, 
for Nausistrata has invited me to dinner, and I'm afraid 
we may keep them waiting. 

PHiED. Very well; follow me. {To the Audience.) Pare 
you well, and grant us your applause. 



THE FABLES OF PH^DEUS. 



BOOK I. 

THE PROLOGUE. 

The matter which ^Esop. the inventor of Fairies, has 
provided, I have polished in Iambic verse. The advantages 
of this little work are twofold — that it excites laughter, and 
by counsel guides the life of man. But if ^ny one shall 
think fit to cavil, because not only wild beasts, but even 
trees speak, let him remember that we are disporting in 
fables. 



Fable I. 

THE WOLF AND THE LAMB. 

Driven by thirst, a Wolf and a Lamb had come to the 
same stream; the Wolf stood above, and the Lamb at a dis- 
tance below. Then, the spoiler, prompted by a ravenous 
maw, alleged a pretext for a quarrel. " Why," said he, 
"have you made the water muddy for me while 1 am drink- 
ing?" The Fleece-bearer, tremb ing, answered: "Prithee, 
Wolf, how can I do what you complain of? The water 
is flowing downwards from you to where I am drinking." 
The other, disconcerted by the force of truth, exclaimed: 
"Six months ago, you slandered me." "Indeed/ answered 



366 THE FABLES OF PH.EDKUS. Book I. 

the Lamb, " I was not born then.'" " By Hercules," said 
the Wolf, " then Hwas your father slandered me f and so, 
snatching him up, he tore him to pieces, killing him unjustly. 
This Fable is applicable to those men who, under false 
pretences, oppress the innocent. 



Fable II. 
THE FBOGS ASKING FOB A KING. 

When Athens 1 was flourishing under just laws, liberty 
grown wanton embroiled the city, and license relaxed the 
reins of ancient discipline. Upon this, the partisans of 
factions conspiring, Bisistratus the Tyrant 2 seized the citadel. 
When the Athenians were lamenting their sad servitude 
(not that he was cruel, but because every burden is grievous 
to those who are unused to it), and began to complain, 
iEsop related a Fable to the following effect : — 

" The Frogs, roaming at large in their marshy fens, with 
loud clamour demanded of Jupiter a king, who, by his 
authority, might check their dissolute manners. The Father 
of the Gods smiled, and gave them a little Log, which, on 
being thrown among them startled the timorous race by the 
noise and sudden commotion in the bog. When it had lain 
for some time immersed in the mud, one of them by chance 
silently lifted his head above the water, and having taken a 
peep at the king, called up all the rest. Having got the better 
of their fears, vying with each other, they swim towards him, 
and the insolent mob leap upon the Log. After defiling it with 
every kind of insult, they sent to Jupiter, requesting another 
king, because the one that had been given them was use- 
less. Upon this, he sent them a Water Snake, 3 who with 

1 When Athens)— Yer. 1. This probably alludes to the government 
of Solon, when Archon of Athens. 

2 Pisistratus the Tyrant)— Yer. 5. From Suidas and Eusebius we 
learn that iEsop died in the fifty-fourth Olympiad, while Pisistratus 
did not seize the supreme power at Athens till the first year of the 
fifty-fifth. These dates, however, have been disputed by many, and 
partly on the strength of the present passage. 

3 A Water-Snake) — Yer. 24. Pliny tells us that the "hydrus" lives 
in the water, and is exceedingly venomous. Some Commentators think 



Fable III. the fables of peledrus. 367 

his sharp teeth began to gobble them up one after another. 
Helpless they strive in vain to escape death; terror deprives 
them of voice. By stealth, therefore, they send through Mer- 
cury a request to Jupiter, to succour them in their distress. 
Then said the God in reply : ' Since you would not be con- 
tent with your good fortune, continue to endure your bad 
fortune." 

" Do you also, O fellow-citizens/' said JEsop, u submit to 
the present evil, lest a greater one befall you." 



Fable III. 
THE VADJ JACKDAW AND THE PEACOCK. 

That one ought not to plume oneself on the merits which 
belong to another, but ought rather to pass his life in his own 
proper guise, iEsop has given us this illustration : — 

A Jackdaw, swelling 1 with empty pride, picked up some 
feathers which had fallen from a Peacock, and decked him- 
self out therewith; upon which, despising his own kind, he 
mingled with a beauteous flock of Peacocks. They tore his 
feathers from off the impudent bird, and put him to flight 
with their beaks. The Jackdaw, thus roughly handled, in 
grief hastened to return to his own kind ; repulsed by whom, 
he had to submit to sad disgrace. Then said one of those 
whom he had formerly despised : " If you had been con- 
tent with our station, and had been ready to put up with 
what nature had given, you would neither have experienced 
the former affront, nor would your ill fortune have had to 
feel the additional pang of this repulse. 

that Phredrus, like iEsop, intends to conceal a political meaning under 
this Fable, and that by the Water-Snake he means Caligula, and by the 
Log, Tiberius. Others, perhaps with more probability, think that the 
cruelty of Tiberius alone is alluded to in the mention of the snake. 
Indeed, it is doubtful whether Phasdrus survived to the time of Caligula : 
and it is more generally believed that the First and Second Books were 
written in the time of Augustus and Tiberius, 

1 A Jackdaw, swelling) — Ver. 4. Scheffer thinks that Sejanus is 
alluded to under this image. 



368 THE FABLES OF PHJSDRUS. Book I. 



Fable IY. 

THE DOG CARRYING SOME MEAT ACROSS A 

RIYER. 

He who covets what belongs to another, deservedly loses 
his own. 

As a Dog, swimming 1 through a river, was carrying a piece 
of meat, he saw his own shadow in the watery mirror ; and, 
thinking that it was another booty carried by another dog, 
attempted to snatch it away ; but his greediness was disap- 
pointed, he both dropped the food which he was holding 
in his mouth, and was after all unable to reach that at which 
he grasped. 

Fable Y. 

THE COW, THE SHE-GOAT, THE SHEEP, AND 

THE LION. 

An alliance with the powerful is never to be relied upon : 
the present Fable testifies the truth of my maxim. 

A Cow, a She-Goat, and a Sheep 2 patient under injuries, 
were partners in the forests with a Lion. When they had 
captured a Stag of vast bulk, thus spoke the Lion, after it 
had been divided into shares : " Because my name is Lion, I 
take the first ; the second you will yield to me because I am 
courageous ; then, because I am the strongest, 3 the third will 

1 As a Dog swimming) — Ver. 9. Lessing finds some fault with the 
way in which, this Fable is related, and with fair reason. The Dog 
swimming would be likely to disturb the water to such a degree, that 
it would be impossible for him to see with any distinctness the reflection 
of the meat. The version which represents him as crossing a bridge is 
certainly more consistent with nature. 

2 And a Sheep) — Ver. 3. Lessing also censures this Fable on the 
ground of the partnership being contrary to nature ; neither the cow, 
the goat, nor the sheep feed on flesh. 

3 I am the strongest) — Ver. 9. Some critics profess to see no difference 
between "sum. fortis" in the eighth line, and " plus valeo'' here; but 
the former expression appears to refer to his courage, and the latter to his 
strength. However, the second and third reasons are nothing but reite- 
rations of the first one, under another form. Davidson remarks on this 
passage : "lam not certain that the Poet meant any distinction ; nay, 
there is, perhaps, a propriety in supposing that he industriously makes 



Fable VII. the fables of ph^edrus. 369 

fall to my lot; if any one touches the fourth, woe betide 
him." 

Thus did unscrupulousness seize upon the whole prey for 
itself. 

Fable VI. 
THE FROGS' COMPLAINT AGAHSTST THE SUK* 

iEsop, on seeing the pompous wedding of a thief, who was 
his neighbour, immediately began to relate the following 
story : 

Once on a time, when the Sun was thinking of taking a 
wife, 1 the Frogs sent forth their clamour to the stars. Dis- 
turbed by their croakings, Jupiter asked the cause of their 
complaints. Then said one of the inhabitants of the pool : 
" As it is, by himself he parches up all the standing waters, 
and compels us unfortunates to languish and die in our 
scorched abode. What is to become of us, if he beset 
children f " 

Fable VII. 

THE FOX AND THE TRAGIC MASK. 

A Fox, by chance, casting his eyes on a Tragic Mask : 
"Ah," said she, "great as is its beauty, still it has no brains." 3 

the fron plead twice upon the same title, to represent more strongly 
by what unjust claims men in power often invade the property of 
another." 

1 Taking a wife)— Vcr. 3. It has been suggested by Brotier and 
Desbillons, that in this Fable Fhsedrus covertly alludes to the marriage 
which was contemplated by Livia, or Livilla, the daughter of the elder 
Drusus and Antonia, and the wife of her first-cousin, the younger 
Drusus, with the infamous Sejanus, the minister and favourite of Tibe- 
rius, after having, with his assistance, removed her husband by poison. 
In such case, the Frogs will represent the Roman people, the Sun 
Sejanus, who had greatly oppressed them, and by Jupiter, Tiberius 
will be meant. 

2 Has no brains) — Ver. 2. To make the sense of this remark of the 
Fox the more intelligible, we must bear in mind that the ancient masks 
covered the whole head, and sometimes extended down to the shoulders; 
consequently, their resemblance to the human head was much more 
striking than in the masks of the present day. 

2 B 



370 THE FABLES OF PHJEDRTJS. Book I. 

This is meant for those to whom fortune has granted 
honor and renown, leaving them void of common sense. 



Fable VIII. 
THE WOLF AND THE CRANE. 

He who expects a recompense for his services from the 
dishonest commits a twofold mistake; first, because he assists 
the undeserving, and in the next place, because he cannot 
be gone while he is yet safe. 

A bone that he had swallowed stuck in the jaws of a 
Wolf. Thereupon, overcome by extreme pain, he began to 
tempt all and sundry by great rewards to extract the cause 
of misery. At length, on his taking an oath, a Crane was 
prevailed on, and, trusting the length of her neck to his throat, 
she wrought, with danger to herself, a cure for the Wolf 
When she demanded the promised reward for this service, 
You are an ungrateful one," replied the Wolf, " to have taken 
your head in safety out of my mouth, and then to ask for a 
reward." 



Fable IX. 
THE SPARROW AND THE HARE. 

Let us show, in a few lines, that it is unwise to be heed- 
less 1 of ourselves, while we are giving advice to others. 

A Sparrow upbraided a Hare, that had been pounced 
upon by an Eagle, and was sending forth piercing cries. 
" Where now," said he, " is that fleetness for which you 
are so remarkable? Why were your feet thus tardy?" 
While he was speaking, a Hawk seizes him unawares, and 
kills him, shrieking aloud with vain complaints. The Hare, 
almost dead, as a consolation in his agony, exclaimed : " You, 
who so lately, free from care, were ridiculing my misfortunes, 
have now to deplore your own fate with as wolul cause." 

1 To he heedless) — Ver. 1. " Cavere " is a word of legal signification, 
meaning to give advice to a person by way of assistance or precaution, 
as a patron to his client. 



Fable XL the fables of ph^drus. 371 

Fable X. 
THE WOLF, THE FOX, AND THE APE. 

Whoever has once "become notorious by base fraud, even 
if lie speaks the truth, gains no belief. To this, a short 
Fable of iEsop bears witness. 

A Wolf indicted a Fox upon a charge of theft \ the latter 
denied that she was amenable to the charge. "Upon this, the 
Ape sat as judge between them; and when each of them 
had pleaded his cause, the Ape is said to have pronounced 
tliis sentence : " You, Wolf, appear not to have lost what 
you demand • I believe that you, Fox, have stolen what you 
so speciously deny. 

Fable XL 
THE ASS AND THE LION HUNTING. 

A dastard, who in his talk brags of his prowess, and is 
devoid of courage, 1 imposes upon strangers, but is the jest 
of all who know him. 

A Lion having resolved to hunt in company with an Ass, 
concealed him in a thicket, and at the same time enjoined 
him to frighten the wild beasts with his voice, to which they 
were unused, while he himself was to catch them as they 
fled. Upon this, Long-ears, with all his might, suddenly 
raised a cry, and terrified the beasts with this new cause 
of astonishment. 2 While, in their alarm, they are flying 
to the well-known outlets, they are overpowered by the 
dread onset of the Lion; who, after he was wearied with 
slaughter, called forth the Ass from his retreat, and bade 
him cease his clamour. On this the other, in his insolence, 
inquired : "What think you of the assistance given by my 
voice?" "Excellent!" said the Lion, "so much so, that if 
I had not been acquainted with your spirit and your race, I 
should have fled in alarm like the rest. 

1 Devoid of courage) — Ver. 1. Burniann suggests, with great pro- 
bability, that Phaedrus had here in mind those braggart warriors, who 
have been so well described by Plautus and Terence, under the charac- 
ters of Pyrgopolynices and Thraso. 

2 This new cause of astonishment) Yer. 8. — l^ever having heard the 
voice of an ass in the forests before. 



372 THE FABLES OF PH^EDRUS. Book I. 

Fable XII. 
THE STAG AT THE STREAM. 

This story shows that what you contemn is often found of 
more utility than what you load with praises. 

A Stag, when he had drunk at a stream, stood still, and 
gazed upon his likeness in the water. While there, in admi- 
ration, he was praising his branching horns, and finding fault 
with the extreme thinness of his legs, suddenly roused by 
the cries of the huntsmen, he took to flight over the plain, 
and with nimble course escaped the dogs. Then a wood 
received the beast ; in which, being entangled and caught by 
his horns, the dogs began to tear him to pieces with savage 
bites. While dying, he is said to have uttered these words : 
" Oh, how unhappy am I, who now too late find out how 
useful to me were the things that I despised ; and what sor- 
row the things I used to praise, have caused me." 

Fable XIII. 
THE FOX AND THE RAVEN". 

He who is delighted at being flattered with artful words, 
generally pays the ignominious penalty of a late repentance. 

As a Raven, perched in a lofty tree, was about to eat a 
piece of cheese, stolen from a window, 1 a Fox espied him, and 
thereupon began thus to speak : " O Raven, what a glossiness 
there is upon those feathers of yours ! What grace you 
carry in your shape and air ! If you had a voice, no bird 
whatever would be superior to you." 'On this, the other, 
while, in his folly, attempting to show off his voice, let fall 
the cheese from his mouth, which the crafty Fox with greedy 
teeth instantly snatched up. Then, too late, the Raven, 
thus, in his stupidity overreached, heaved a bitter sigh. 

By this story 2 it is shown, how much ingenuity avails, 
and how wisdom is always an overmatch for strength. 

1 From, a wind w)— Ver. 3. Burmaim suggests that the window of a 
house in which articles of food were exposed for sale, is probably meant. 

2 By this story — Yer. 13. Heinsius thinks this line and the next to 
be spurious ; because, though Phsedrus sometimes at the beginning 



Fable XV. the fables op ph^drus. 373 

Fable XIV. 
THE COBBLER TURNED PHYSICIAN. 

A bungling Cobbler, broken down by want, having begun 
to practise physic in a strange place, and selling his anti- 
dote 1 under a feigned name, gained some reputation for 
himself by his delusive speeches. 

Upon tins, the King of the city, who lay ill, being afflicted 
with a severe malady, asked for a cup, for the purpose of try- 
ing him ; and then pouring water into it, and pretending that 
he was mixing poison with the fellow's antidote, ordered 
him to drink it off, in consideration of & stated reward. 
Through fear of death, the cobbler then confessed that not 
by any skill in the medical art, but through the stupidity of 
the public, he had gained his reputation. The King, hav- 
ing summoned a council, thus remarked : " YvHiat think you 
of the extent of your madness, when you do not hesitate to 
trust your lives 2 to one to whom no one would trust his feet 
to be fitted with shoes ?" 

This, I should say with good reason, is aimed at those 
through whose folly impudence makes a profit. 

Fable XY. 

THE ASS AND THE OLD SHEPHERD. 

In a change of government, the poor change nothing 
beyond the name of their master. That this is the fact this 
little Fable shows. 

mentions the design of his Fable, he seldom does so at the end. In this 
conjecture he is followed by Bentley, Sanadon, and many others of the 
learned. 

1 Selling Ids antidote) — Yer. 3. "Antidotum" probably means a 
universal remedy, capable of curing all natural diseases, as well as 
neutralizing the effects of poison. 

2 Trust your lives) — Yer. 15. He seems to pun upon the word 
" capita," as meaning not only " the life," but " the head," in contradis- 
tinction to " the feet," mentioned in the next line. As in 1. 2 we find 
that he came to a place where he was not known, we must suppose that 
the Cobbler confessed to the King his former calling. 



374 THE FABLES OF PHiEDHUS. Book I. 

A timorous Old Man was feeding an Ass n a meadow. 
Frightened by a sudden alarm of the enemy, lie tried to per- 
suade the Ass to fly, lest they should be taken prisoners. 
But he leisurely replied : " Pray, do you suppose that the 
conqueror will place double panniers upon me ?" The Old 
Man said, "No." "Then what matters it to me, so long as 
I have to carry my panniers, whom I serve ?" 

Fable XVI. 
THE STAG, THE SHEEP, AND THE WOLF. 

When a rogue offers his name as surety in a doubtful case, 
he has no design to act straight-forwardly, but is looking to 
mischief. 

A Stag asked a Sheep for a measure 1 of wheat, a Wolf 
being his surety. The other, however, suspecting fraud, 
replied : " The Wolf has always been in the habit of plun- 
dering and absconding; you, of rushing out of sight with 
rapid flight : where am I to look for you both when the 
day comes ?" 3 

Fable XYII. 

THE SHEEP, THE DOG, AND THE WOLF. 

Liars generally 3 pay the penalty of their guilt. 

A Dog, who was a false accuser, having demanded of a 
Sheep a loaf of bread, which he affirmed he had entrusted to 
her charge ; a Wolf, summoned as a witness, anirmed that 
not only one was owing but ten. Condemned on false tes- 
timony, the Sheep had to pay what she did not owe. A few 
days after, the Sheep saw the Wolf lying in a pit. " This," 
said she, u is the reward of villany, sent by the Gods." 

1 For a measure) — Yer. 3. Properly "modius;" the principal dry 
measure of the Romans. It was equal to one-third of the amphora, and 
therefore to nearly two gallons English. 

2 Day comes)— Yer. 6. " Quum dies adveniat," a law term, signify- 
ing " when the day of payment comes." 

6 Liars generally) — Ver.l. It is supposed by some that this Fable 
is levelled against the informers who infested Rome in the days of 
Tiberius. 



Fable XX. the fables of ph^drus. 375 

Fable XVIII. 
THE WOMA^ IN LABOUR 

No one returns with good will to the place which has 
done him a mischief.. 

Her months completed/ a Woman in labour lay upon the 
ground, uttering woful moans. Her Husband entreated her 
to lay her body on the bed, where she might with more 
ease deposit her ripe burden. " I feel far from confident," 
said she, u that my pains can end in the place where they 
originated." 

Fable XIX. 
THE BITCH AjSTD HER WHELPS. 

The fair words of a wicked man are fraught with treachery, 
and the subjoined lines warn us to shun them. 

A Bitch, ready to whelp,. 2 having entreated another that 
she might give birth to her offspring in her kennel, easily 
obtained the favour. Afterwards, on the other asking for 
her place back again, she renewed her entreaties, earnestly 
begging for a short time, until she might be enabled to lead 
forth her whelps when they had gained sufficient strength. 
This time being also expired, the other began more urgently 
to press for her abode : "If," said the tenant, "you can be a 
match for me and my litter, I will depart from the place." 

Fable XX. 

THE HUNGRY DOGS. 

An ill-judged project is not only without effect, but also 
lures mortals to their destruction. 

1 Her months completed) — Yer. 2. Plutarch relates this, not as a 
Fable, but as a true narrative. 

2 Beady to whelp)— Yer. 3. Justin, B. I., c. 3, mentions this Fable 
with some little variation, as being related by a Ligurian to Comanus, 
the son of King Nannus, who had granted (about B.C. 540) some land 
to the Phocaeans for the foundation of the city of Massilia ; signifying 
thereby that the natives would be quickly dispossessed by the new- 
comers. 



376 THE FABLES OF PH^DRUS. Book I. 

Some Dogs espied a raw hide sunk in a river. In order that 
they might more easily get it out and devour it, they fell to 
drinking up the water \ they burst, however, and perished 
"before thev could reach what they sought. 



Farle XXI. 

THE AGED LION, THE WILD BOAB, THE BULL, 
AND THE ASS. 

Whoever has fallen from a previous high estate, is in 
his calamity the butt even of cowards. 

As a Lion, worn out with years, and deserted by his 
strength, lay drawing his last breath, a Wild Boar came up to 
him, with flashing tusks, 1 and with a blow revenged an old 
affront. Next, with hostile horns, a Bull pierced the body 
of his foe. An Ass, on seeing the wild beast maltreated 
with impunity, tore up his forehead with his heels. On 
this, expiring, he said : " I have borne, with indignation, 
the insults of the brave ; but in being inevitably forced to 
bear with you, disgrace to nature ! I seem to die a double 
death." 

Fable XXII. 

THE MAN AND THE WEASEL. 

A. Weasel, on being caught by a Man, wishing to escape 
impending death : " Pray," said she, " do spare me, for 'tis I 
who keep your house clear of troublesome mice." The Man 
made answer : " If you did so for my sake, it would be a 
reason for thanking you, and I should have granted you the 
pardon you entreat. But, inasmuch as you do your best 
that you may enjoy the scraps which they would have 
gnawed, and devour the mice as well, don't think of plac- 
ing your pretended services to my account;" and so saying, 
he put the wicked creature to death. 

1 With flashing tuslcs) — Yer. 5. " Fulmineus," * lightning-like,' 
is an epithet given by Ovid and Statius also, to the tusks of the wild 
boar ; probably by reason of their sharpness and the impetuosity cf the 
blew inflicted thereby. Scheffer suggests that they were so called from 
their white appearance among the black hair of the boar's head. 



Eable XXY. the fables of ph^drus. 377 

Those persons ought to recognize this as applicable to 
themselves, whose object is private advantage, and who boast 
to the unthinking of an unreal merit. 

Fable XXIII. 
THE FAITHFUL DOG. 

The man who becomes liberal all of a sudden, gratifies the 
foolish, but for the wary spreads his toils in vain. 

A Thief one night threw a crust of bread to a Dog, to 
try whether he could be gained by the proffered victuals : 
" Hark you," said the Dog, " do you think to stop my tongue 
so that I may not bark for my masters property ? You are 
greatly mistaken. For this sudden liberality bids me be on 
the watch, that you may not profit by my neglect. 

Fable XXIY. 
THE FEOG AND THE OX. 

The needy man, while affecting to imitate the powerful, 
comes to ruin. 

Once on a time, a Frog espied an Ox in a meadow, and 
moved with envy at his vast bulk, puffed out her wrinkled 
skin, and then asked her young ones whether she was bigger 
than the Ox. They said "No." Again, with still greater 
efforts, she distended her skin, and in like manner enquired 
which was the bigger: 1 they said: "The Ox." At last, 
while, full of indignation, she tried, with all her might, to 
puff herself out, she burst her body on the spot. 

Fable XXY. 
THE DOG AND THE CKOCODILE. 

Those who give bad advice to discreet persons, both lose 
their pains, and are laughed to scorn. 

1 Which was the bigger) — Ver. 8. " Quis major esset. Illi dixerunt 
Bovem." Bentley censures this line, and thinks it spurious. In good 
Latin, he says "uter" would occupy the place of "quis," and "bo- 
vem' would be replaced by " bos." 



378 THE FABLES OF PH^EDEUS. Book I. 

It has been related/ that Dogs drink at the river Nile 
running along, that they may not he seized by the Crocodiles. 
Accordingly, a Dog having begun to drink while running 
along, a Crocodile thus addressed him : " Lap as leisurely as 
you like ; drink on ; come nearer, and don't be afraid," said 
he. The other replied : " Egad, I would do so with all my 
heart, did I not know that you are eager for my flesh." 



Fable XXVI. 
THE FOX AND THE STORK. 

Harm should be done to no man; but if any one do 
an injury, this Fable shows that he may be visited with a 
like return. 

A Fox is said to have given a Stork the first invitation to 
a banquet, and to have placed before her some thin broth in a 
flat dish, of which the hungry Stork could in no way get a 
taste. Having invited the Fox in return, she set before Mm 
a narrow-mouthed jar, 2 full of minced meat: 3 and, thrust- 
ing her beak into it, satisfied herself, while she tormented 
her guest with hunger ; who, after having in vain licked 
the neck of the jar, as we have heard, thus addressed the 
foreign bird: 4 " Every one is bound to bear patiently the 
results of his own example." 

1 It has been related)— Ver. 3. Pliny, in his Natural History, B. viii. 
c. 40, and iElian, in his Various and Natural Histories, relate the same 
fact as to the dogs drinking of the Nile. " To treat a thing, as the dogs 
do the Nile," was a common proverb with the ancients, signifying to do 
it superficially ; corresponding with our homely saying, " To give it a 
lick and a promise." Macrobius, in the Saturnalia, B. i. c. 2, mentions a 
story, that after the defeat at Mutina, when enquiry was made as to what 
had become of Antony, one of his servants made answer : " He has 
done what the dogs do in Egypt, he drank and ran away," 

2 Of minced meat) — Yer. 7. "Intritus cibus," is thought here to 
signify a peculiar dish, consisting of bread soaked in milk, cheese, gar- 
lic, and other herbs. 

3 Narrow-mouthed jar) — Ver. 8. The "lagena," or " lagona," was a 
long-necked bottle or flagon, made ]of earth, and much used for keeping 
wine or fruit. 

4 The foreign bird) — Ver. 11. Alluding: probably to th^ mUri&ipFX. 
habits of the stork, or the fact of her being especially a native of Egypt. 



Fable XXVIII. the fables of phjedkus. 379 



Fable XXVIL 

THE DOG, THE TREASUKE, AND THE 
YTJLTURE. 

This Fable may be applied to the avaricious, and to those, 
who, born to a humble lot, affect to be called rich. 

Grubbing up human bones, 1 a Dog met with a Treasure; 
and, because he had offended the Gods the Manes, 2 a desire for 
riches was inspired in him, that so he might pay the penalty 
due to the holy character of the place. Accordingly, while 
he was watching over the gold, forgetful of food, he was 
starved to death ; on which a Vulture, standing over him, is 
reported to have said : u Dog, you justly meet your death, 
who, begotten at a cross-road, and bred up on a dunghill, 
have suddenly coveted regal wealth. 



Fable XXVIII. 
THE FOX AND THE EAGLE. 

Men. however high in station, ought to be on their guard 
against the lowly; because, to ready address, revenge lies near 
at hand. 

An Eagle one day carried off the whelps of a Fox, and 
placed them in her nest before her young ones, for them to 
tear in pieces as food. The mother, following her, began 
to entreat that she would not cause such sorrow to her 
miserable suppliant. The other despised her, as being safe in 
the very situation of the spot. The Fox snatched from an 
altar a burning torch, and surrounded the whole tree with 
flames, intending to mingle anguish to her foe with the loss 

1 Human hones) — Yer, 3. This plainly refers to the custom which 
prevailed among the ancients, of burying golden ornaments, and even 
money, with the dead ; which at length was practised to such an excess, 
that at Rome the custom was forbidden by law. It was probably prac- 
tised to a great extent by the people of Etruria; if we may judge from 
the discoveries of golden ornaments frequently made in their tombs. 

? Gods the Manes)- Ver. 4. Perhaps by "Deos Manes" are meant 
the good and bad Genii of the deceased. 



380 THE FABLES OF PHJSDRUS. Book I. 

of her offspring. The Eagle, that she might rescue her 
young ones from the peril of death, in a suppliant manner 
restored to the Fox her whelps in safety. 



Fable XXIX. 
THE ASS DERIDING THE BOAR. 

Fools often, while trying to raise a silly laugh, provoke 
others by gross affronts, and cause serious danger to them- 
selves. 

An Ass meeting a Boar : a Good morrow to you, brother," 
says he. The other indignantly rejects the salutation, and 
enquires why he thinks proper to utter such an untruth. 
The Ass, with legs 1 crouching down, replies : "If you deny 
that you are like me, at all events I have something very 
like your snout." The Boar, just on the point of making 
a fierce attack, suppressed his rage, and said : " Revenge 
were easy for me, but I decline to be defiled with such 
dastardly blood. 



Fable XXX. 

THE FROGS FRIGHTENED AT THE BATTLE OF 

THE BULLS. 

When the powerful 2 are at variance, the lowly are the 
sufferers. 

A Frog, viewing from a marsh, a combat of some Bulls : 
"Alas!" said she, "what terrible destruction is threatening 
us." Being asked by another why she said so, as the Bulls 
were contending for the sovereignty of the herd, and passed 
their lives afar from them : " Their habitation is at a dis- 
tance," said s)ie y and they are of a different kind; still, he 
who is expelled from the sovereignty of the meadow, will take 

1 The ass, with legs) — Yer. 7. This line is somewhat modified in the 
translation. 

2 When the powerful) — Yer. 1. This is similar to the line of Horace, 
" Quicquid deHrant reges, plectuntur Achivi." 



Fable XXXI. the fables of ph^edrus. 381 

to flight, and come to the secret hiding-places in the fens, 
and trample and crush us with his hard hoof. Thus does 
their fury concern our safety." 

Fable XXXI. 
THE KITE AND THE PIGEONS. 

He who entrusts himself to the protection of a wicked 
man, while he seeks assistance, meets with destruction. 

Some Pigeons, having often escaped from a Kite, and by 
their swiftness of wing avoided death, the spoiler had 
recourse to stratagem, and by a crafty device of this nature, 
deceived the harmless race. "Why do you prefer to live a 
life of anxiety, rather than conclude a treaty, and make me 
your king, who can ensure your safety from every injury?" 
They, putting confidence in him, entrusted themselves 
to the Kite, who, on obtaining the sovereignty, began to 
devour them one by one, and to exercise authority with 
his cruel talons. Then said one of those that were left : 
"Deservedly are we smitten."' t 



382 THE FABLES OF PHJSDPvUS. Book II, 



BOOK II. 



THE PROLOGUE. 

The plan of .ZEsop is confined to instruction by examples ; 
nor by Fables is anything else 1 aimed at than that the errors 
of mortals may be corrected, and persevering industry 2 exert 
itself. Whatever the playful invention, therefore, of the 
narrator, so long as it pleases the ear, and answers its pur- 
pose, it is recommended by its merits, not by the Author's 
name. 

For my part, I will with all care follow the method of the 
sage; 3 but if I should think fit to insert something 4 of my 
own, that variety of subjects may gratify the taste, I trust, 
Header, you will take it in good part ; provided that my 
brevity be a fair return for such a favour : of which, that my 
praises may not be verbose, listen to the reason why you ought 
to deny the covetous, and even to offer to the modest that for 
which they have not asked. 

1 Is anything else) — Ver. 2. Burmann thinks that the object of the 
Author in this Prologue is to defend himself against the censures of 
those who might blame him for not keeping to his purpose, mentioned 
in the Prologue of the First Book, of adhering to the fabulous matter 
used by iEsop, but mixing up with such stories narratives of events 
that had happened in his own time. 

2 Persevering industry) — Ver. 5. "Diligens industrial An indus- 
try or ingenuity that exerts itself in trying to discover the meaning of 
his Fables. 

3 Of the sage) — Ver. 8. Meaning iEsop. 

4 To insert something) — Ver. 9. He probably alludes to such con- 
temporary narratives as are found in Fable v. of the present Boo:;; in 
Fable x. of the Third; in B. IV v Fables v., xxi., xxiv.; and B. V., 
Fables i., v., vii. 



Fable II. the fables of ph^edrus. 383 



Fable I. 

THE LION, THE ROBBER, AND THE 
TRAVELLER, 

While a Lion was standing over a Bullock, which he had 
brought to the ground, a Robber came up, and demanded a 
share. "I would give it you," said the Lion, "were you 
not in the habit of taking without leave;" and so repulsed 
the rogue. By chance, a harmless Traveller was led to the 
same spot, and on seeing the wild beast, retraced his steps ; 
on which the Lion kindly said to him : " You have nothing 
to fear; boldly take the share which is due to your modesty." 
Then having divided the carcase, he sought the woods, that 
he might make room for the Man. 

A very excellent example, and worthy of all praise; but 
covetousness is rich and modesty in want. 4 

Fable II. 

THE TWO WOMEN OF DIFFERENT AGES 
BELOVED BY THE MIDDLE-AGED MAN. 

That the men, under all circumstances, are preyed upon 
by the women, whether they love or are beloved, this truly 
we learn from examples. 

A Woman, not devoid of grace, held enthralled a certain 
Man of middle age, 2 concealing her years by the arts of 
the toilet : a lovely Young creature, too, had captivated 
the heart of the same person. Both, as they were desirous 
to appear of the same age with him, began, each in her turn, 
to pluck out the hair of the Man. While he imagined that 

1 Modesty in want)—Yev. 12. Martial has a similar passage, B. iv., 
Epig. 9 :— 

" Semper eris pauper, si pauper es, ^Emiliane, 
Dantur opes nulli nunc nisi divitibus." 

2 Of middle age) — Ver 8. It has been a matter of doubt among 
Commentators to which "setatis mediae'' applies — the man or the 
woman. But as she is called "anus/' "an Old Woman," in the last 
line, it is most probable that the man is meant. 



384 .THE FABLES OF PH^DRUS Book II. 

lie was made trim by the care of the women, he suddenly 
found himself bald ; for the Young Woman had entirely 
pulled out the white hairs, the Old Woman the black ones. 



Fable III. 
THE MAN AND THE DOG. 

A Man, torn by the bite of a savage Dog, threw a piece of 
bread, dipt in his blood, to the offender \ a thing that he 
had heard was a remedy for the wound. Then said iEsop : 
" Don't do this before many dogs, lest they devour us alive, 
when they know that such is the reward of guilt." 

The success of the wicked is a temptation to many. 



Fable IV. 

THE EAGLE, THE CAT, AND THE WILD SOW. 

An Eagle had made her nest at the top of an oak ; a Cat 
who had found a hole in the middle, had kittened there; a 
Sow, a dweller in the woods, had laid her offspring at the 
bottom. Then thus does the Cat with deceit and wicked 
malice, destroy the community so formed by accident. She 
mounts up to the nest of the Bird : " Destruction," says 
she, '*is preparing for you, perhaps, too, for wretched me; 
for as you see, the Sow, digging up the earth every day, is 
insidiously trying to overthrow the oak, that she may easily 
seiz3 our progeny on the ground." Having thus spread 
terror, and bewildered the Eagle's senses, the Cat creeps down 
to the lair of the bristly Sow : " In great danger," says she, 
"are your offspring ; for as soon as you go out to forage with 
your young litter, the Eagle is ready to snatch away from 
you your little pigs." Having filled this place likewise 
with alarm, she cunningly hides herself in her safe hole. 
Thence she wanders forth on tiptoe by night, and having 
filled herself and her offspring with food, she looks out all 
day long, pretending alarm. Fearing the downfall, the 
Eagle sits still in the branches; to avoid the attack of the 
spoiler, the Sow stirs not abroad. Why make a long story ? 



Fable V THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. 385 

They perished through hunger, with their young ones, and 
afforded the Cat and her kittens an ample repast. 

Silly credulity may take this as a proof how much evil a 
double-tongued man may often contrive. 



Fable V. 

(LESAE TO THE CHAMBERLAIN. 

There is a certain set of busybodies at Rome, hurriedly 

limning to and fro, busily engaged in idleness, out of breath 
about nothing at all, with much ado doing nothing, a 
trouble to themselves, and most annoying to others. It is 
my object, by a true story, to reform this race, if indeed I 
can : it is worth your while to attend. 

Tiberius Caesar, when on his way to Naples, came to his 
country-seat at jJisenurn, 1 which, placed by the hand of 
Lucullus on the summit of the heights, beholds the Sicilian 
sea in the distance, and that of Etruria close at hand. One 
of the highly girt Chamberlains, 2 whose tunic of Peiusian 
linen was nicely smoothed from his shoulders downwards, 
with hansino' fringes, while his master was walking through 
the pleasant shrubberies, began with bustling oniciousness 
to sprinkle 3 the parched ground with a wooden watering-pot; 
but only got laughed at. Thence, by short cuts to him 

1 Country-seat at Misenum^—Yer. 8. This villa was situate on Cape 
Misenum, a promontory of Campania, near Baise and Curare, so called 
from Misenus. the trumpeter ofJEneas, who was said to have been buried 
there. The villa was originally built by C. Marius, and was bought 
"by Cornelia, and then by Lucullus, who either rebuilt it or added 
extensively to it, 

2 Of the chamberlains) — Yer. 11. The ' ; atrienses' v were a superior 
class of the domestic slaves. It was their duty to take chaige of the 
" atrium," or hall; to escort visitors or clients, and to explain to 
strangers all matters connected with the pictures, statues, and other 
decorations of the house. 

3 To sprinkle) — Yer. 16. Burmann suggests that this duty did not 
belong to the "atriensis/' who would consequently think that his 
courteous politeness would on that account be still more pleasing to the 
Emperor. 

2c 



386 THE FABLES OP PH^DRUS. Book IL 

well known, he runs before into another walk/ laying the 
dust. Caesar takes notice of the fellow, and discerns his 
object. Just as he is supposing that there is some extra- 
ordinary good fortune in store for him : " Come hither," 
says his master ; on which he skips up to him, quickened by 
the joyous hope of a sure reward. Then, in a jesting tone, 
thus spoke the mighty majesty of the prince : " You have not 
profited much ; your labour is all in vain ; manumission 
stands at a much higher price with me. 3 



Fable VI. 
THE EAGLE, THE CROW, AND THE TORTOISE. 

No one is sufficiently armed against the powerful ; but if 
a wicked adviser joins them, nothing can withstand such a 
combination of violence and unscrupulousness. 3 

An Eagle carried a Tortoise aloft, who had hidden her 
body in her horny abode, and in her concealment could not, 
while thus sheltered, be injured in any way. A Crow came 
through the a i# r, and flying near, exclaimed : " You really 
have carried off a rich prize in your talons ; but if I don't 
instruct you what you must do, in vain will you tire your- 
self with the heavy weight." A share being promised her, 
she persuades the Eagle to dash the hard shell from the lofty 
stars upon a rock, that, it being broken to pieces, she may 
easily feed upon the meat. Induced by her words, the Eagle 
attends to her suggestion, and at the same time gives a large 
share of the banquet to her instructress. 

1 Another walh)—Vev. 18. The "xj^stus" was a level piece of 
ground, in front of a portico, divided into flower-beds of various shapes 
by borders of box. 

2 Much higher price) — Yer. 25. He alludes to the "Roman mode of 
manumission, or setting the slaves at liberty. Before the master pre- 
sented the slave to the Quasstor, to have the "vindicta," or lictor's 
rod, laid on him, he turned him round and gave him a blow on the 
face. In the word " veneunt," "sell/' there is a reference to the pur- 
chase of their liberty by the slaves, which was often effected by means 
of their " peculium," or savings. 

3 Literally : Whatever violence and unscrupulousness attack, comes 
to ruin. 



Fable VIIL the fables of ph^drus. 3S7 

Thus she who had been protected by the bounty of nature, 
being an unequal match for the two, perished oy an unhappy 
fate, 

Fable VII. 
THE MULES AND THE BOBBERS. 

Laden with burdens, two Mules were travelling along; the 
one was carrying baskets 1 with money, the other sacks dis- 
tended with store of barley. The former, rich with his 
burden, goes exulting along, with neck erect, and tossing 
to-and-fro upon his throat his clear-toned bell : 2 his com- 
panion follows, with quiet and easy step. Suddenly some 
Bobbers rush from ambush upon them, and amid the 
slaughter 3 pierce the Mule with a sword, and carry off the 
money \ the valueless barley they neglect. While, then, the 
one despoiled was bewailing their mishaps : " For my part," 
says the other, " I am glad I was thought so little of ; for I 
have lost nothing, nor have I received hurt by a wound." 

According to the moral of this Fable, poverty is safe; great 
riches are liable to danger. 

Fable VIII. 

THE STAG AND THE OXEN. 

A Stag, aroused from his woodland lair, to avoid im- 
pending death threatened by huntsmen, repaired with 
blind fear to the nearest farm-house, and hid himself in 
an ox-stall close at hand. Upon this, an Ox said to him, 
as he concealed himself: "Why, what do you mean, un- 
happy one, in thus rushing of your own accord upon 

1 Carrying baskets) — Ver. 2. " Fisci " were baskets made of twigs, 
or panniers, in which the Romans kept and carried about sums of 
money. Being used especially in the Roman treasury, the word in time 
came to signify the money itself. Hence our word " fiscal." 

2 Char-toned bell) — Ver. 5. Scheffer and Gronovius think that the 
bell was used, as in some countries at the present day, for the pur- 
pose of warning those who came in an opposite direction to make 
room where the path was narrow. 

3 Amid the slaughter) — Ver. 8. He alludes no doubt to the murder 
of the men conducting the mules by the Kobbers. 

2c2 



388 THE FABLES OF PH^EDRUS. Book II. 

destruction, and trusting your life to the abode of man?" 
To this he suppliantly replied : " Do you only spare me ; 
the moment an opportunity is given I will again rush forth." 
Night in her turn takes the place of day; the ]STeat-herd 
brings fodder, but yet sees him not. All the farm servants 
pass and repass every now and then ; no one perceives him : 
even the Steward passes by, nor does he observe anything. 
Upon this, the stag, in his joy, began to return thanks to 
the Oxen who had kept so still, because they had afforded 
him hospitality in the hour of adversity. One of them made 
answer : " We really do wish you well ; but if he, who has a 
hundred eyes, should come, your life will be placed in great 
peril." In the meanwhile the Master himself comes back 
from dinner ; and having lately seen the Oxen in bad con- 
dition, comes up to the rack : " Why," says he, " is there so 
little fodder ? Is litter scarce ? What great trouble is it 
to remove those spiders' webs?" 1 While he is prying into 
every corner, he perceives too the branching horns of the 
Stag, and having summoned the household, he orders him to 
be killed, and carries off the prize. 

This Fable signifies that the master sees better than any 
one else in his own affairs. 



THE EPILOGUE. 

The Athenians erected a statue to the genius of -^Ssop, 
and placed him, though a slave, upon an everlasting pedestal, 
that all might know that the way to fame is open to 
all, and that glory is not awarded to birth but to merit. 
Since another 2 has prevented me from being the first, I have 

1 Those spiders' webs) — Ver. 23. The mode of clearing away the 
spider webs may be seen described in the beginning of the " Stichus :> 
of Plautus. 

2 Since another) — Yer. 5. He probably refers to ^Esop : though 
XTeinsius thinks that he refers to (J. Mecsenas Melissus, mentioned by 
Ovid, in his Pontic Epistles, B. iv., El. xvi , 1. 30, a frcedman of 
Mecasnas, who compiled a book of jests partly from the works of 

iop. Burmann, however, ridicules this supposition. 






THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. 389 

made it my object, a thing which still lay in my power, that he 
should not be the only one. Nor is this envy, but emula- 
tion 3 and if Latium shall favour my efforts, she will have 
still more authors whom she may match with Greece. But if 
jealousy shall attempt to detract from my labours, still it 
shall not deprive me of the consciousness of deserving praise. 
If my attempts reach your ears, and your taste relishes these 
Fables, as being composed with skill, ray success then banishes 
every complaint. But if, on the contrary, my learned labours 
fall into the hands of those whom a perverse nature has brought 
to the light of day, and who are unable to do anything 
except carp at their betters, I shall endure my unhappy 
destiny 1 with strength of mind, until Fortune is ashamed 
of her own injustice. 

1 Unhappy destiny) — Ver. 17. The words "fatale exitium" have 
been considered as being here inappropriately used. Tt is very doubtiul 
whether the last part of this Epilogue is genuine. 



390 THE FABLES OP PHiEDP.US. Book III. 



BOOK III 

THE PROLOGUE. 

TO EUTYCHUS. 

If you Lave a desire, Eutychus, to read the little books of 
Phfedrus, you must keep yourself disengaged from business, 
that your mind, at liberty, may relish the meaning df the 
lines. " But," you say, "my genius is not of such great value, 
that a moment of time should be lost for it to my own pur- 
suits." There is no reason then why that should be touched 
by your hands which is not suited for ears so engaged. 
Perhaps you will say, "some holidays will come, 2 which 

1 Eutychus) — Ver. 2. It is not known with certainty who this 
Eutychus was to whom he addresses himself. It has been suggested 
that he is the same person who is mentioned by Josephus, Antiq. 
B. xix., c. 4, as flourishing at the Court of Caligula, and who had 
previously been a charioteer and inspector of buildings at the stables of 
Claudius. He is also supposed, from the words of the Epilogue of this 
Book, line 20—26, to have held more than one public office. It has 
been suggested that he was the freedman of the Emperor Claudius or 
Augustus, an inscription having been found in the tomb of the 
freedmen of the latter to C. Julius Eutychus. But it is hardly probable 
that he is the person meant; as there is little doubt that Phaedrus 
wrote the present Book of Fables long after the time of Augustus. 
Indeed it has been suggested by some that he wrote it as late as the 
reign of Caligula. 

3 Some holidays) — Yer. 8. The "Romans had three kinds of public 
%e feriaa," or holidays, which all belonged to ihe " dies nefasti," or days 
on which no public business could be done. These were the "feriae 
stativae," "conccptivas," and "imperativae." The first were held regularly, 
and on stated days set forth in the Calendar. To these belonged the 
Lupercalia, Carmentalia, and Agonalia. The "conceptivse," or "con- 
ceptae," were moveable feasts held at certain seasons in every year, but 
not on fixed days ; the times for holding them being annually appointed 



THE FABLES OF PHAEDRUS. 391 

will invite me to study with mind unbent." Will you 
rather, I ask you, read worthless ditties, 1 than bestow 
attention upon your domestic concerns, give moments to your 
friends, your leisure to your wife, relax your mind, and 
refresh your body, in order that you may return more 
efficiently to your wonted duties ? You must change your 
purpose and your mode of life, if you have thoughts of 
crossing the threshold of the Muses. I, whom my mother 
brought forth on the Pierian hill, 2 upon which hallowed 
Mnemosyne, nine times fruitful, bore the choir of Muses to 
thundering Jove : although I was born almost in the very 
school itself, and have entirely erased all care for acquiring 
wealth from my breast, and with the approval of many have 
applied myself to these pursuits, am still with difficulty 
received into the choir of the Poets. What do you imagine 
must be the lot of him who seeks, with ceaseless vigilance, 
to amass great wealth, preferring the sweets of gain to the 
labours of learning ? 

But now, come of it what may (as Sinon said 3 when he 

by the magistrates or priests. Among these were the u feriae Latinae," 
Sementivae, Paganalia, and Compitalia. The "ferae imperative" 
were appointed to be held on certain emergencies by order of the 
Consuls, Praetors, and Dictators; and were in general held to avert 
national calamities or to celebrate great victories. 

1 Worthless ditties) — Ver. 10. " Naenia " were, properly, the 
improvised songs that were sung at funerals by the hired mourners, 
who were generally females. From their trivial nature, the word came 
to be generally applied to all worthless ditties, and under this name 
Phaedrus, with all humility, alludes to his Fables. 

2 On the Pierian Hill) — Yer. 17. Judging from this passage it would 
appear that Ph?edrus was a Macedonian by birth, and not, as more 
generally stated, a Thracian. Pieria was a country on the south-east 
coast of Macedonia, through which ran a ridge of mountains, a part of 
which were called Pieria, or the Pierian mountain. The inhabitants 
are celebrated in the early history of the music and poesy of Greece, as 
their country was one of the earliest seats of the worship of the Muse3, 
and Orpheus was said to have been buried there. It is most probable 
that Phaedrus was carried away in slavery to Rome in his early years, 
and that he remembered but little of his native country. 

3 As Sinon said) — Ver. 27. He here alludes to the words of Sinon, 
the Grecian spy, when brought before Priam, in the Second Book of 
Virgil, 77-78 :— 

"Cnnctaequidem tibi, rex, fuerit quodcumque fatebor 
Vera, inquit 



392 THE FABLES OP PH^EDRUS. Book III. 

was brought before the King of Dardania), I will trace a 
third book with the pen of JEsop, and dedicate it to you, 
in acknowledgment of your honor and your goodness. 1 If 
you read it, I shall rejoice ; but if otherwise, at least 
posterity will have something with which to amuse them- 
selves. 

Now will I explain in a few words why Fabulous narrative 
was invented. Slavery, 2 subject to the will of another, 
because it did not dare to say what it wished, couched its 
sentiments in Fables, and by pleasing fictions eluded censure. 
In place of its foot-path I have made a road, and have 
invented more than it left, selecting some points to my own 
misfortune. 3 But if any other than Sejanus 4 had been the 
informer, if any other the witness, if any other the judge, in 
fine, I should confess myself deserving of such severe woes ; nor 
should I soothe my sorrow with these expedients. If any 
one shall make erroneous surmises, and apply to himself what 
is applicable to all in common, he will absurdly expose the 
secret convictions of his mind. And still, to him I would 
hold myself excused ; for it is no intention of mine to point 
at individuals, but to describe life itself and the manners 
of mankind. Perhaps some one will say, that I undertake a 

Others, again, suppose that this was a proverbial expression in general 
use at Rome. It is not improbable that it may have become so on being 
adopted from the work of Virgil : " Come what may of it, as Sinon 
. said." 

1 And your goodness) — Ver. 30. "Honori et mentis dedicam ilium 
tuis." We learn from ancient inscriptions that this was a customary 
formula in dedications. 

2 Slavery) — Yer. 34. He probably alludes to iEsop's state of slavery, 
in the service of the philosopher Xanthus. 

3 To my own misfortune) — Yer. 40. He evidently alludes to some 
misfortune which has befallen him in consequence of having alluded in 
his work to the events of his own times. It has been suggested that 
he fell under the displeasure of Tiberius and his minister Sejanus, in 
consequence of the covert allusions made to them in Fables II and YI 
in the First Book. This question is, however, involved in impene- 
trable obscurity. 

4 Than Sejanus)— Yer. 41. He means that iElius Sejanus had acted 
against him as both informer, witness, and judge ; but that had an 
honest man condemned him to the sufferings he then experienced, he 
should not have complained. The nature of the punishment here alluded 
to is not known. 






Fable I. THE FABLES OP PH.EDRUS. 393 

weighty task. If iEsop of Phiygia, if Anacharsis of Scythia 
could,, by their genius, found a lasting fame, why should I 
who am more nearly related to learned Greece, forsake in 
sluggish indolence the glories of my country? especially as 
the Thracian race numbers its own authors, and Apollo was 
the parent of Linus, a Muse of Orpheus, who with his song 
moved rocks and tamed wild beasts, and held the current of 
Hebrus in sweet suspense. Away then, envy! nor lament in 
vain, because to me the customary fame is due. 

I have urged you to read these lines; I beg that you will 
give me your sincere opinion 3 of them with your well-known 
candour. 



Fable I. 
THE OLD WOMAN AND THE CASK. 

An Old Woman espied a Cask, 3 which had been drained 
to the dregs, lying on the ground, and which still spread 
forth from its ennobled shell a delightful smell of the 
Falernian lees. 4 After she had greedily snuffed it up her 
nostrils with all her might ; " O delicious fragrance, 5 " said 

1 Anacharsis of Scythia)— Ver. 52. A Scythian philosopher, and 
supposed contemporary of .Esop. He came to Athens in pursuit of 
knowledge while Solon was the lawgiver of that city. He is said to 
have written works on legislation and the art of war. 

2 Nearer to learned Greece)— Ver. 54. Alluding to Pieria, the place 
of his birth. The people of Pieria were supposed to have been of 
Thracian origin. 

3 A cask)— Ver. 1. "Amphoram." Properly, the "amphora," or 
earthen vessel with two handles, in which wine was usually kept. 

4 Falernian Lees) — Ver. 2. The Falernian wine held the second 
rank in estimation among the Eomans. The territory where it was 
grown commenced at the "Pons Campanus/' and extended from the 
Massic Hills to the river Vulturnus. Pliny mentions three kinds, the 
rough, the sweet, and the thin. It is supposed to have been of an amber 
colour, and of considerable strength. It was the custom to write the 
age of the wine and the vintage on the " amphora,'' or cask. 

5 O, delicious fragrance) — Ver. 5. "Anima," most probably applies to 
the savour or smell of the wine ; though some Commentators have 
thought that she addresses the cask as "anima," meaning "0 dear 
soul;" others, that she speaks of the wine as being the soul of life; 



394 THE FABLES OP PH^EDEUS. Book III- 

she, " how good I should say were your former contents, 
when the remains of them are such !" 

What this refers to let him say who knows me. 1 



Fable II. 
THE PANTHEE AND THE SHEPHERD. 

Repayment in kind is generally made by those who are 
despised. 

A Panther 2 had once inadvertently fallen into a pit. The 
rustics saw her; some belaboured her with sticks, others pelted 
her with stones ; while some, on the other hand, moved with 
compassion, seeing that she must die even though no one 
should hurt her, threw her some bread to sustain existence. 
Night comes on apace ; homeward they go without concern, 
making sure of finding her dead on the following day. She, 
however, after having recruited her failing strength, with a 
swift bound effected her escape from the pit, and with hurried 
pace hastened to her den. A few days intervening, she 
sallies forth, slaughters the flocks, kills the shepherds them- 
selves, and laying waste every side, rages with unbridled 
fury. Upon this those who had shown mercy to the beast, 

while "Walchius seems to think that she is addressing her own soul, 
which is quite cheered by the fumes. 

1 Who knoics me) — Ver. 7. Burmann thinks that the author covertly 
hints here at the habits of the Emperor Tiberius in his old age, who 
still hankered after those vicious indulgences which had been his main 
pursuits in his former days; or else that the Poet simply refers to human 
life, in the same spirit in which Seneca, Ep. lvii., calls old age, "faex: 
vitae," "the lees of life." Others again suppose that Phasdrus alludes to 
his own old age, and means that those who knew him when this Fable 
was written, may judge from their present acquaintance with him what 
he must have been in his younger days. Heinsius thinks that it refers 
to the present state of servitude of Phaedrus, compared with his 
former liberty ; but, if he was manumitted, as generally supposed by 
Augustus, and this Fable was not written till after the death of Sejanus, 
that cannot be the case. 

2 A Panther) — Ver. 2. Some have suggested, Burmann and Guyetus 
in the number, that by the Panther is meant Tiberius, who, during his 
banishment to the isle of Rhodes, occupied himself in studying how to 
wreak his vengeance upon his enemies at Rome, and, with the fury of 
the Panther, as soon as he had the opportunity, glutted his vengeance. 
This notion, however, seems more ingenious than well founded. 



Fable IV. the fables of ph^edrus. 395 

alarmed for their safety, made no demur to the loss of 
their flocks, and begged only for their lives. But she thus 
answered them: "I remember him who attacked me with 
stones, and him who gave me bread ; lay aside your fears ; I 
return as an enemy to those only who injured me." 

Fable III.1 
^ESOP AND THE FAKMER. 

One taught by experience is proverbially said to be more 
quick-witted than a wizard, but the reason is not told ; which, 
now for the first time, shall be made known by my Fable. 

The ewes of a certain Man who reared flocks, brought 
forth lambs with human heads. Dreadfully alarmed at the 
prodigy, he runs full of concern to the soothsayers. One 
answers that it bears reference to the life of the owner, and 
that the danger must be averted with a victim. Another, 
no wiser, affirms that it is meant that his wife is an adultress, 
and his children are spurious ; but that it can be atoned for 
by a victim of greater age. 1 Why enlarge ? They all differ 
in opinions, and greatly aggravate the anxiety of the Man. 
-ZEsop being at hand, a sage of nice discernment, whom 
nature could never deceive by appearances, remarked: — "If 
you wish, Farmer, to take due precautions against this portent, 
find wives for your shepherds." 3 



Fable IV. 

THE BUTCHEE AND THE APE. 

A man seeing an Ape hanging up at a Butcher's among the 
rest of his commodities and provisions, enquired how it 
might taste f on which the Butcher, joking, replied : " Just 
as the head is, such, I warrant, is the taste." 

1 Of greater age) — Yer. 11. "IMajori hostia;" probably, a sheep of 
two years old instead of a Iamb. 

2 For your shepherds)— \ er. 17. Plutarch introduces Thales in his 
" Convivium Sapientium," as telling a somewhat similar story. Phsedrus 
might, with better grace, have omitted this so-called Fable. 

3 How it might taste)— Yer. 3. The Butcher puns upon the twofold 



396 THE FABLES OP PELEDRUS. Book IIL 

This I deem to be said more facetiously than correctly; 
for on the one hand I have often found the good-looking to 
be very knaves, and on the other I have known many with 
ugly features to be most worthy men. 

Fable Y. 
MSO? AND THE INSOLENT MAN. 

Success leads many astray to their ruin. 

An Insolent Fellow threw a stone at ^Esop. " Well done," 
said he, and then gave him a penny, thus continuing: "Upon 
my faith I have got no more, but I will show you where you 
can get some ; see, yonder comes a rich and influential 
man; throw a stone at him in the same way, and you will 
receive a due reward." The other, being persuaded, did 
as he was advised. His daring impudence, however, was dis- 
appointed of its hope, for, being seized, he paid the penalty 
on the cross. 1 

Fable VI. 

THE FLY AND THE MULE. 

A Fly sat on the pole of a chariot, and rebuking the 
Mule : " How slow you are," said she ; " will you not go 
faster ? Take care that I don't prick your neck with my sting." 
The Mule made answer : " I am not moved by your words, 
but I fear him who, sitting on the next seat, guides my yoke 2 
with his pliant whip, and governs my mouth with the foam- 
meaning of "sapio," "to taste of," or "have a flavour," and "to be 
wise." The customer uses the word in the former sense, while the 
Butcher answers it in the latter, and perhaps in the former as well ; 
" Such as the head is," pointing to it, " I'll warrant the wisdom of the 
animal to be ;'" the words at the same time bearing the meaning of, 
" It has an ape's head, and therefore it can only taste like the head of an 
ape." "Sapor" ordinarily means " flavour," or "taste;" but Cicero 
uses it in the signification of wisdom or genius. Many other signi- 
fications of this passage have been suggested by the various Editors. 

1 On the cross)— Ver. 10. The cross was especially used as an instru- 
ment of punishment for malefactors of low station, and, as we see 
here, sometimes on very trivial occasions. 

2 Guides my yoke) — Ver. 6. "Jugum meum f meaning, " me who 
bear the yoke." 



Fable VII. the fables of ph^edeus. 397 

covered reins. Therefore, cease your frivolous impertinence, 
for I well know when to go at a gentle pace, and when to 
run." 

In this Fable, he may be deservedly ridiculed; who, without 
any strength, gives utterance to vain threats. 

Fable VII. 
THE DOG AND THE WOLF. 

I will shew in a few words how sweet is Liberty. 

A Wolf, quite starved with hunger, chanced to meet a 
well-fed Dog, and as they stopped to salute each other, 
"Pray," said the Wolf, how is it that you are so sleek? 
or on what food have you made so much flesh ? I, who 
am far stronger, am perishing with hunger." The Dog 
frankly replied : "You may enjoy the same condition, if you 
can render the like service to your master." " What is it ?" 
said the other. " To be the guardian of his threshold, and 
to protect the house from thieves at night." "I am quite 
ready for that " said the Wolf: " at present I have to en- 
dure snow and showers, dragging on a wretched existence 
in the woods. How much more pleasant for me to be living 
under a roof, and, at my ease, to be stuffed with plenty of 
victuals." " Come along, then, with me," said the Dog. As 
they were going along, the Wolf observed the neck of the 
Dog, where it was worn with the chain. " Whence comes 
this, my friend ? " c; Oh, it is nothing. 1 " " Do tell me, though." 
" Because I appear to be fierce, they fasten me up in the day- 
time, that I may be quiet when it is light, and watch when 
night comes ; unchained at midnight, I wander wherever I 
please. Bread is brought me without my asking ; from his 
own table my master gives me bones; the servants throw 
me bits, and whatever dainties each person leaves; thus, 
without trouble on my part, is my belly filled." " Well, if 
you have a mind to go anywhere, are you at liberty?" " Cer- 
tainly not," replied the Dog. " Then, Dog, enjoy what you 
boast of; I would not be a king, to lose my liberty." 

1 It is nothing)— Yer. 17. "Nihil est.* This was a form of expres- 
sion used when they wished to cut short any disngreable question, to 
which they did not think fit to srive a direct answer. 



398 THE FABLES OP PH^DHUS. Book III. 

Fable YIII. 
THE BEOTHEE AND SISTER 

Warned by this lesson, often examine yourself. 

A certain Man had a very ugly Daughter, and also a 
Son, remarkable for his handsome features. These, diverting 
themselves, as children do, chanced to look into a mirror, 
as it lay upon their mother's chair. 1 He praises his own 
good looks; she is vexed, and cannot endure the raillery 
of her boasting brother, construing everything (and how 
could she do otherwise ?) as a reproach against herself. 
Accordingly, off she runs to her Father, to be avenged on 
him in her turn, and with great rancour, makes a charge 
against the Son, how that he, though a male, has been 
meddling with a thing that belongs to the women. Em- 
bracing them both, kissing them, and dividing his tender 
affection between the two, he said : " I wish you both to 
use the mirror every day : you, that you may not spoil your 
beauty by vicious conduct; you, that you may make amends 
by your virtues for your looks." 

Fable IX. 
SOCEATES TO HIS FRIENDS. 

The name of a friend is common ; but fidelity is rarely 
found. 

Socrates having laid for himself the foundation of a small 
house (a man, whose death I would not decline, if I could 
acquire similar fame, and Wee Mm I could yield to envy, if T 
might be but acquitted 2 when ashes); one of the people, no 

1 Their mother s chair) — Ver. 4. The " cathedra" was properly a soft 
or easy chair used in the " gyngecsea," or women's apartments. These 
were of various forms and sizes, and had backs to them ; it was considered 
effeminate for the male sex to use them. "Sellae" was the name of 
seats common to both sexes. The use of the " speculum," or mirror, 
was also confined to the female sex ; indeed, even Pallas or Minerva 
was represented as shunning its use, as only befitting her more volup- 
tuous fellow-goddess, Venus. 

2 I might oe acquitted j — V r er. 4. He alludes to the fate of Socrates, 



Fable X. the fables of ph-edrus. 399 

matter who, amongst such passing remarks as are usnal in 
these cases, asked : " Why do you, so famed as you are. build 
so small a house?" 

" I only wish/' he replied, Ci I could fill it with real friends." 

Fable X. 

THE POET, ON BELIEVING, AND NOT 
BELIEVING. 

It is dangerous aJke to believe or to disbelieve. Of 
either fact, I will briefly lay before you an instance. 

Hippolytus met his death, 1 because his step-mother was 
believed : because Cassandra was not believed. Troy fell. 
Therefore, we ought to examine strictly into the truth of 
a matter, rather than suffer an erroneous impression to 
pervert our judgment. But, that I may not weaken tins 
truth by referring to fabulous antiquity, I will relate to you a 
thing that happened within my own memory. 

A certain married Man, who was very fond of his Wife, 
having now provided the white toga 2 for Ins Son, was pri- 
vately taken aside by his Freedman, who hoped that he 
should be substituted as his next heir, and who, after telling 
many lies about the youth, and still more about the mis- 
conduct of the chaste "Wife, added, what he knew would espe- 
cially grieve one so fond, that a gallant was in the habit of 
paying her visits, and that the honor of his house was stamed 
with base adultery. Enraged at the supposed guilt of his Wife, 
the husband pretended a journey to his country-house, and 
privately stayed behind in town; then at night he suddenly 
entered at the door, making straight to his Wife's apartment; 

■who, after he was put to death by his countrymen, was publicly pro- 
nounced to be innocent, and a statue was erected in his honour. 

1 Met his death) — Ver. 3. The story of Hippolytus, who met his 
death in consequence of the treachery of his stepmother Phaedra, is 
related at length in the Play of Euripides of that name, and in the 
Fifteenth Book of Ovid's Metamorphoses. The fate of Cassandra, the 
daughter of Priam, who in vain prophesied the fall of Troy, is related 
in the Second Book of the jEneid, 1 246, et seg. 

2 The white toga) —Ver ]0. The " toga piutexta." or Consular robe, 
was worn by the male children of the Romans till their sixteenth year; 
when (.hey assumed the ordinary " toga,"' which was called "pura," 
because it had no purple border, and was entirely white. 



400 THE FABLES OF PXLEDRUS. Book III. 

in which the mother had ordered her son to sleep, keeping a 
strict eye over his ripening years. While they are seeking 
for a light, while the servants are hurrying to and fro, unable 
to restrain the violence of his racing passion, he approaches 
the bed, and feels a head in the dark. When he finds the 
hair cut close, 1 he plunges his sword into the sleeper's breast, 
caring for nothing, so he but avenge his injury. A light 
being brought, at the same instant he beholds his son, and 
his chaste wife sleeping in her apartment ; who, fast locked in 
her first sleep, had heard nothing : on the spot he inflicted 
punishment on himself for his guilt, and fell upon the 
sword which a too easy belief had unsheathed. The accusers 
indicted the woman, and dragged her to Eome, before the 
Centumviri. 2 Innocent as she was, dark suspicion weighed 
heavily against her, because she had become possessor of his 
property : her patrons stand 3 and boldly plead the cause of 
the guiltless woman. The judges then besought the Emperor 
Augustus that he would aid them in the discharge of their 
oath, as the intricacy of the case had embarrassed them. 
After he had dispelled the clouds raised by calumny, and 
had discovered a sure source of truth 4 : "Let the Freedman," 
said he, " the cause of the mischief, suffer punishment ; but 
as for her, at the same instant bereft of a son, and deprived 
of a husband, I deem her to be pitied rather than con- 
demned. If the father of the family had thoroughly enquired 
into the charge preferred, and had shrewdly sifted the lying 

1 The hair cut close) — Yer. 27. This is appropriately introduced, as 
the hair of youths was allowed to grow long until they had reached the 
age of manhood, on which it was cut close, and consecrated to the 
Gods. 

2 The Centumviri) — Ver. 35. The "Centumviri" were a body of 
105 officers, w T hose duty it was to assist the praetor in litigated questions. 
They were sometimes called "judices selecti," or "commissioned 
judges." 

3 The patrons stand) — Yer. 37. The patrons stood while pleading 
the causes of their clients, while the judges sat, as with us. 

4 Sure source of truth)— Yer. 43. It is suggested that the source 
of information here alluded to was the evidence of the slaves, who had 
heard their master mention in his last moments the treachery of his 
freedman. It is not prohahle that the freedman voluntarily came for- 
ward, and declared the truth to Augustus. In 1. 39, Augustus is called 
" Divus," as having been deified afler his death. Domitian was the first 
who was so called during his lifetime. 



Fable XII. the fables of ph^edrus. 401 

accusations, he would not, by a dismal crime, have ruined 
his house from the very foundation." 

Let the ear despise nothing, nor yet let it accord implicit 
belief at once : since not only do those err whom you would 
be far from suspecting, but those who do not err are some- 
times falsely and maliciously accused. 

This also may be a warning to the simple, not to form a 
judgment on anything according to the opinion of another; 
for the different aims of mortals either follow the bias of 
their goodwill or their prejudice. He alone will be correctly 
estimated by you, whom you judge of by personal experience. 

These points I have enlarged upon, as by too great brevity 
I have offended some. 

Fable XL 

THE EUNUCH TO THE ABUSIVE M1K 

A Eunuch had a dispute with a scurrilous fellow, who, in. 
addition to obscene remarks and insolent abuse, reproached 
him with the misfortune of his mutilated person. " Look 
you," said the Eunuch, " this is the only point as to which I 
am effectually staggered, forasmuch as I want the evidences 
of integrity. But why, simpleton, do you charge me with 
the faults of fortune ? That alone is really disgraceful to a 
man, which he has deserved to suffer." 1 



Fable XII. 

THE COCK AND THE PEARL. 

A young Cock, while seeking for food on a dunghill, 
found a Pearl, and exclaimed : " What a fine thing are you 
to be lying in so unseemly a place. If any one sensible of 
your value had espied you here, you would long ago have 
returned to your former brilliancy. And it is I who have 

1 Deserved to suffer) — Yer. 7. Though this moral may apply to all 
misfortunes in general, it is supposed by some of the Commentators 
that by the insulter some individual notorious for his adulteries was 
intended to be represented ; who consequently merited by law to bs 
reduced to the same situation as the innocent Eunuch. 

2 D 



4:02 THE FABLES OF PHiEDHUS. Book III. 

found you, I to whom food is far preferable ! I can be of no 
use to you or you to me." 

This I relate for those who have no relish for me. 1 



.Fable XIII. 

THE BEES AND THE DBONES, THE WASP 
SITTING AS JUDGE. 

Some Bees had made their combs in a lofty oak. Some lazy 
Drones asserted that these belonged to them. The cause 
was brought into court, the Wasp sitting as judge ; who, 
being perfectly acquainted with either race, proposed to the 
two parties these terms : " Your shape is not unlike, and 
your colour is similar ; so that the affair clearly and fairly 
becomes a matter of doubt. But that my sacred duty may 
not be at fault through insufficiency of knowledge, each of 
you take hives, and pour your productions into the waxen 
cells ; that from the flavour of the honey and the shape of 
the comb, the maker of them, about which the present dis- 
pute exists, may be evident." The Drones decline ; the 
proposal pleases the Bees. Upon this, the Wasp pronounces 
sentence to the following effect : " It is evident who cannot, 
and who did, make them ; wherefore, to the Bees I restore 
the fruits of their labours." 

This Fable 1 should have passed by in silence, if the Drones 
had not refused the proposed stipulation. 2 



Fable XIY. 

^ESOP AT PLAY. 

An Athenian seeing .ZEsop in a crowd of boys at play 
with nuts, 3 stopped and laughed at him for a madman. As 

1 Have no relish for me) — Ver. 8. From this passage we may infer 
either that Phaedrus himself had many censurers at Home, or that the 
people in general were not admirers of Fables. 

2 The proposed stipulation)— Ver. 17. It has been suggested that 
Phaedrus here alludes to some who had laid claim to the authorship of his 
Fables, and had refused a challenge given by him, such as ihat here 
given to the Drones, to tost the correctness of their assertions. 

3 At play with nuts)— Yer. 2. It is thought by Schwabc that Phaedrus 



"Fable XV. the fables of piledkus^ 403 



soon as the Sage, — a laugher at others rather than one to he 
laughed at, — perceived this, he placed an unstrung bow in 
the middle of the road : u Hark you, wise man/' said he, 
■ unriddle what I have done." The people gather round. 
The man torments his invention a long time, but cannot 
make out the reason of the proposed question. At last he 
gives up. Uj)on this, the victorious Philosopher says : " You 
will soon break the bow, if you always keep it bent ; but if 
you loosen it, it will be lit for use when you want it." 

Thus ought recreation sometimes to be given to the mind, 
that it may return to you better fitted for thought. 



Fable XY. 

THE DOG TO THE LAMB. 

A Dog said to a Lamb l bleating among some She-Goats : 
" Simpleton, you are mistaken ; your mother is not here ;" 
and pointed out some Sheep at a distance, in a flock by them- 
selves. "I am not looking for her," said the Lamb, " who, when 
she thinks fit, conceives, then carries her unknown burden for 
a certain number of months, and at last empties out the fallen 
bundle \ but for her who, presenting her udder, nourishes 
me, and deprives her young ones of milk that I may not go 
without." u Still," said the Log, * she ought to be preferred 
who brought you forth." "Not at all: how was she to 
know whether I should be bom black or white ? 2 However, 

wrote this Fable in defence of his early patron Augustus, against those 
who censured hirn for the levity of his conduct in his old age; as we 
learn from Suetonius that he amused himself with fishing, playing with 
dice, pebbles, or nuts with boys.— For some account of Roman games 
with nuts, see " The Walnut-tree," a fragment of Ovid, in vol. iii. p. 491, 
of Bohn's Translation of that author. 

1 To a Lamb)—\er. 1. Burmann suggests that this Fable is levelled 
against the cruelty of parents, who were much in the babit of exposing 
their children, who were consequently far from indebted to them. 
Sehwabe conjectures that the system of employing wet-nurses is intended 
here to be censured. 

2 Black or wh (e) — Yer. 10. This, though disregarded by the mother, 
would be ot importance to him, as the black lambs were first selected 
for sacrifice. 

2 d2 



404: THE FABLES OP PILEDRUS. Book III. 

suppose she did know ; seeing I -was born a male, truly she 
conferred a great obligation on me in giving me birth, that 
I might expect the butcher every hour. Why should she, 
who had no power in engendering me, be preferred to her 
who took pity on me as I lay, and of her own accord shewed 
me a welcome affection ? It is kindliness makes parents, not 
the ordinary course of Nature" 

By these lines the author meant to show that men are 
averse to fixed rules, but are won by kind services. 



Fable XVI. 
THE GEASSHOPPEB, AND THE OWL. 

He who does not conform to courtesy, mostly pays the 
penalty of his superciliousness. 

A Grasshopper was making a chirping that was disagree- 
able to an Owl, who was wont to seek her living in the dark, 
and in the day-time to take her rest in a hollow tree. She 
was asked to cease her noise, but she began much more loudly 
to send forth her note ; entreaties urged again only set her 
on still more. The Owl, when she saw she had no remedy, 
and that her words were slighted, attacked the chatterer 
with this stratagem : " As your song, which one might take 
for the tones of Apollo's lyre, will not allow me to go to 
sleep, I have a mind to drink some nectar which Pallas 
lately gave me - 1 if you do not object, come, let us drink 
together." The other, who was parched with thirst, as soon 
as she found her voice complimented, eagerly flew up. The 
Owl, coming forth from her hollow, seized the trembling 
thing, and put her to death. 

Thus what she had refused when alive, she gave when 
dead. 

1 Pallas lately gave we)— Ver. 13. The Owl was sacred to Pallas. 



IWe XVIII. THE FABLES OF PEL'EDRUS. 405 



Fable XVII. 

THE TEEES UNDER THE PROTECTION OF THE 

GODS. 

The Gods r in days of yore made choice of such Trees as 
they wished to be under their protection. The Oak pleased 
Jupiter, the Myrtle Venus, the Laurel Phoebus, the Pine 
Cybele, the lofty Poplar Hercules. Minerva, wondering 
why they had chosen the barren ones, enquired the reason. 
Jupiter answered: "That we may not seem to sell the honor 
for the fruit." "Now, so heaven help me," 1 said she, " let any 
one say what he likes, but the Olive is more pleasing to me 
on account of its fruit." Then said the Father of the Gods 
and the Creator of men : " O daughter, it is with justice 
that you are called wise by all ; unless what we do is useful, 
vain is our glory." 2 

This little Fable admonishes us to do nothing that is not 
profitable. 

Fable XVIII. 

THE PEACOCK TO JUNO. 

A Peacock came to Juno, complaining sadly that she had 
not given to him the song of the Nightingale ; that it was 
the admiration of every ear, while he himself was laughed 

1 So heaven help me) — Yer. 8. " Mehercule," literally " By Hercules." 
This was a form of oath used generally by men. and Phsedrus has been 
censured for here putting it in the mouth of Minerva. Some Commen- 
tators also think that he is guilty of a slight anachronism in using th.3 
name of Hercules here to give emphasis to an asseveration ; but there 
does not appear to be any ground for so thinking, as the choice must, 
of course, be supposed to have been made after his death and deifica- 
tion. In the Amphitryon of Plautus, Mercury is represented as swear- 
ing by Hercules before that God was born. 

2 Vain is our glory) — Yer. 12. "Nisi utile est quod facimus, stulta 
est glorin," This line is said to have been found copied on a marble 
stone, as part of a sepulchral inscription, at Alba Julia or Weissemberg 
in Transylvania. 



406 THE FABLES OF PHiEDRUS. Book IIL 

at the very instant he raised his voice. The Goddess, to 
console him. replied : " But you surpass the nightingale in 
beauty, you surpass him in size ; the brilliancy of the eme- 
rald shines upon your neck ; and you unfold a tail begemmed 
with painted plumage." " Wherefore give me," he retorted, 
" a beauty that is dumb, if I am surpassed in voice ?" " By 
the will of the Fates," said she, " have your respective 
qualities been assigned ; beauty to you, strength to the 
Eagle, melody to the Nightingale, to the Raven presages, 
unpropitious omens to the Crow ; all of these are contented 
with their own endowments." 

Covet not that which has not been granted you, lest 
your baffled hopes sink down to useless repinings. 



Fable XIX. 
AESOP'S ANSWEE TO THE INQUISITIVE MAN. 

"When ^Esop was the only servant of his master, he was 
ordered to prepare dinner earlier than usual. Accordingly, 
he went round to several houses, seeking for fire, 1 and at 
last found a place at which to light his lantern. Then as 
he had made a rather long circuit, he shortened the way 
back, for he went home straight through the Forum. There 
a certain Busybody in the crowd said to him : "JEsop, why 
with a light at mid-day?" "I'm in search of a man," 2 said 
he ; and went hastily homewards. 

If the inquistive fellow reflected on this answer, he must 
have perceived that the sage did not deem him a man, who 
could so unseasonably rally him when busy. 

1 Seeking for fire) — Ver. 3. Fire was kindled in general by being 
kept smouldering in a log under the ashes, from day to day, for culinary 
purposes; or else it was begged from a neighbour, as we learn from the 
Aulularia of Plautus, A. I., Sc. ii., 1. 12 et seq.; and so generally was 
this done that we find it stated in the Trinummus, A. II., sc. ii., 1. 53, 
that it was the custom not to refuse fire when asked for even to an 
enemy. 

2 In search of a man) — Ver 9. Meaning that he did not deem the 
enquirer to be a man. The same story is told in Diogenes Laertius, of 
Diogenes the Cynic. 



THE FABLES OP PHjEDRUS. 407 



EPILOGUES 



There are yet remaining Fables for me to write, but I pur- 
posely abstain ; first, that I may not seem troublesome to 
you, whom a multiplicity of matters distract ; and next, 
that, if perchance any other person is desirous to make a 
like attempt, he may still have something left to do ; although 
there is so abundant a stock of matter that an artist will be 
wanting to the work, not work to the artist. 1 request that 
you will give the reward to my brevity which you promised; 
make good your word. For life each day is nearer unto death; 
and the greater the time that is wasted in delays, the less 
the advantage that will accrue to me. If you dispatch the 
matter quickly, the more lasting will be my enjoyment ; the 
sooner I receive your favours, the longer shall I have the 
benefit thereof. While there are yet some remnants of a 
wearied life, 2 there is room for your goodness ; in aftertimes 
your kindness will in vain endeavour to aid me, infirm with 
old age; for then I shall have ceased to be able to enjoy your 
kindness, and death, close at hand, will be claiming its due. 
I deem it foolish to address my entreaties to you, when your 
compassion is so ready., spontaneously, to render assistance. 
A criminal has often gained pardon by confessing ; how much 
more reasonably ought it to be granted to the innocent ? 
It is your province 3 now to judge of my cause ; it will fall 

1 This and the following Prologue seem better suited to their present 
places than to the close of the Fourth Book, where in most of the 
editions they appear. 

2 Of a wearied life) — Ver. 15. It is impossible to say with any 
certainty to what he refers; but the most probable conjecture is that he 
has again got into trouble through his compositions, and is begging 
Eutychus, in some public capacity, immediately to give a favourable 
decision in his behalf. That " Languens £evum " means a life worn out 
with misfortune, and does not refer to himself as sinking, in want, under 
old age, is evident from the next line. It has been conjectured by some 
that Phaedrus wrote these lines in prison, where he had been thrown 
through the malice of his enemies. 

3 It is your province)— Ver. 24. He is supposed to allude to some 
judicial position held by Eutychus, which he would have to vacate at 
the end of a year, and be succeeded by others, probably not so favourably 
disposed to himself. 



408 THE FABLES OF PHiEDPwUS. 

to others by-and-by ; and again by a like revolution, the turn 
of others will come. Pronounce the sentence, as religion — 
as your oath permits; and give me reason to rejoice in your 
decision. My feelings have passed the limits they had pro- 
posed; but the mind is with difficulty restrained, which, 
conscious of unsullied integrity, is exposed to the insults of 
spiteful men. " Who are they ?*' you will ask : they will be 
seen in time. For my part, so long as I shall continue in my 
senses, I shall take care to recollect that "it is a dangerous 
thing for a man of humble birth to murmur in public. 1 " 

1 To murmur in public) — Ver. 33. "Palam lnutire plcbcio piacuhim 
est." These words are quoted from the Telephus of Eimius. 



THE FABLES OF PH^EDRUS. 409 



BOOK IV. 



PROLOGUE. 

To Particulo. 

When I had determined to put an end \o my labours, 
with the view that there might be material enough left for 
others, in my mind I silently condemned my resolve. For 
even if there is any one desirous of the like fame, how will 
he guess what it is I have omitted. 1 so as to wish to hand 
down that same to posterity ; since each man has a turn of 
thinking of his own, and a tone peculiar to himself. It 
was not, therefore, any fickleness, but assured grounds, that 
set me upon writing again. Wherefore, Particulo, 2 as you are 
amused by Fables (which I will style "iEsopian," not ''those 
of iEsop ;" for whereas he published but few, I have brought 
out a great many, employing the old style, but with modern 
subjects), now at your leisure you shall peruse a Fourth 
Book. If envy shall choose to carp at it, so long as it can- 
not imitate, 3 why let it carp. I have gained glory enough, 
in that you. and others like to you, have quoted my words 
in your writings, and have thought me worthy of being long 
remembered. Why should I stand in need of the applause 
of the illiterate ? 

1 / have omitted) — Yer. 5. " Divinabit " seems preferable here to 
"^amnabit," or " demonstrably" the other readings; and Burmann is 
probably right in supposing that he means to say that many of the 
./Esopian fables had not yet been used by him, and though others may 
make use of them as bearing a general moral, they will not be able so 
well as himself to point their moral in reference to individuals or 
classes, in consequence of his advantage in having already adapted 
many of them to the censure of particular vices. 

2 Particulo) — Ter. 10. Of Particulo nothing whatever is known, 
except that he was a freedman. 

3 Cannot imitate) — Yer. 16. Gronovius thinks that he alludes to the 
Greek proverb ■ ' Mw/ztZaGai pdSiov h pipcZaVaL* " "Tis easier to blame 
than to imitate. - ' 



410 THE FABLES OP PH^DRUS. Eook IV. 

Fable I. 
THE ASS AND THE PETESTS OF CYBELE. 

He who has been born to ill luck, not only passes an un- 
happy life, but even after death the cruel rigour of destiny 
pursues Ir'm. 

The Galli, priests of Cybele, 1 were in the habit, on their 
begging excursions, of leading about an Ass, to carry their 
burdens. When he was dead with fatigue and blows, his hide 
being stripped off, they made themselves tambourines 2 there- 
with. Afterwards, on being asked by some one what they 
had clone with their favourite, they answered in these words : 
" He fancied that after death he would rest in quiet ; but see, 
dead as he is, fresh blows are heaped upon him." 

Fable II. 
THE WEASEL AND THE MICE. 

This way of writing seems to you facetious ; and no 
doubt, while we have nothing of more importance, we 
do sport with the pen. Bat examine these Fables with atten- 
tion, and what useful lessons will you find concealed under 
them ! Things are not always what they seem ; first appear- 
ances deceive many : few minds understand what skill has 
hidden in an inmost corner. That I may not appear to 
have said this without reason, I will add a Fable about the 
Weasel and the Mice. 

A Weasel, worn out with years and old age, being unable 
to overtake the active Mice, rolled herself in flour, and threw 
herself carelessly along in a dark spot. A Mouse, thinking her 
food, jumped upon her, and, being caught, was put to death: 

1 Priests of Cybele)— Ver. 4. During the Festival of Cybele, the Galli 
or eunuch-priests of the Goddess went about with an image of her 
seated on an ass, and beating a tambourine, for the purpose of making 
a collection to del ray the expenses of the worship, They were called 
by the Greeks ijrjTpayvprai, " Collectors for the Mother." See the 
Fasti of Ovid, B. iv., 1. 350, vol. .i, p. 149, of Bonn's Translation. 

2 Tambourines) — Ver. 7. " The tympana," which were almost exactly 
similar to our tambourines, were covered with the skin of asses or of 
oxen, and were beaten with the hand or a small stick. 



Fable IV. the fables of ph^drus. 411 

another in like manner perished, and then a third. Some 
others having followed, an old brindled fellow came, who had 
escaped snares and mouse-traps full oft ; and viewing from 
afar the stratagem of the crafty foe: "So fare you well/" 
said he, " you that are lying there, as you are flour." 

Fable III. 
THE FOX AND THE GRAPES. 

Urged by hunger, a Fox, leaping with all her miofht, tried 

to reach a cluster of Grapes upon a lofty vine. When she 

found she could not reach them, she left them, saying : 

" They are not ripe yet ; I don't like to eat them while 

sour." 

Those who disparage what they cannot perform, ought to 
apply this lesson to themselves. 

Fable IV. 
THE HOESE AND THE WILD BOAR. 

While a Wild Boar was wallowing, he muddied the shallow 
water, at which a Horse had been in the habit of quenching 
his thirst. Upon this, a disagreement arose. The Horse, 2 
enraged with the beast, sought the aid of man, and, raising 
him on his back, returned against the foe. After the Horse- 
man, hurling his javelins, had slain the Boar, he is said to 
have spoken thus : " I am glad that I gave assistance at your 
entreaties, for I have captured a prey, and have learned how 
useful you are ; " and so compelled him, unwilling as he was, 
to submit to the rein. Then said the Horse, sorrowing: 
" Fool that I am ! while seeking to revenge a trifling matter, 
I have met with slavery." 

This Fable will admonish the passionate, that it is better 
to be injured with impunity, than to put ourselves in the 
power of another. 

1 So fare you well) — Ver. 21. "Sic valeas." — "Fare you well, if you 
are flour, which you are not. I wish you luck as much as I believe you 
are what you pretend to be. i. e., not at all." 

2 The horse)— Ver. 3. " Sonipes," literally " sounding-hoof." This 
was a name commonly given to the horse by the Eomans. Lucan 
repeatedly calls a war-horse by this epithet. 



412 THE FABLES OF PHiEDRUS. Book IV. 

Fable V. 
2ES0J? INTERPEETIKG A WILL. 

I will show to posterity, by a short story, that there is 
often more merit in one man than in a multitude. 

A Person, at his death, left three Daughters; one hand- 
some, and hunting for the men with her eyes ; the second, an 
industrious spinner of wool, 1 frugal, and fond of a country 
life ; the third, given to wine, and very ugly. Now the old 
man made their Mother his heir, on this condition, that 
she should distribute his whole fortune equally among the 
three, but in such a manner that they should not possess or 
enjoy what was given them; and further, that as soon as 
they should cease to have the property which they had re- 
ceived, they should pay over to their Mother a hundred thou- 
sand sesterces. The rumour spreads all over Athens. The 
anxious Mother consults the learned in the law. No one can 
explain in what way they are not to possess what has been 
given, or have the enjoyment of it; and then again, in what 
way those who have received nothing, are to pay money. 
After a long time had been wasted, and still the mean- 
ing of the will could not be understood, the Parent, dis- 
regarding the strict letter of the law, consulted equity. 2 
For the Wanton, she sets aside the garments, female 
trinkets, silver bathing- vessels, eunuchs, and beardless boys: 
for the Worker in wool, the fields, cattle, farm, labourers, 
oxen, beasts of burden, and implements of husbandry: for 
the Drinker, a store-room, 3 well stocked with casks of old 

1 Spinner ofwool)—Yev. 5. " Lanificam." Working in wool was 
the constant employment of the more industrious among the females 
of the higher class. Ovid, in the Fasti, Book ii., 1. 742, represents 
Lucretia as being found thus employed by her husband and Tarquinius. 
The Emperor Augustus refused to wear any clothes that were not woven 
by the females of his family. 

2 Consulted equity) — Ver. 20. This seems to be the meaning of 
"fidem advocare :" but the passage has caused considerable difficulty 
to the Commentators. 

3 A store-room)— Ter. 25. The "apotheca" was a place in the upper 
part of the house, in which the Romans frequently placed the amphorae 
in which their wine was stored. It was situate above the " fumarium," 
as the smoke was thought to heighten the flavour of the wine. 



Fable VI. the fables op ph^edrus. 413 

wine, a finely finished house/ and delightful gardens. When 
she was intending to distribute what was thus set apart for 
each, and the public approved, who knev/ them well ; iEsop 
suddenly stood up in the midst of the multitude, and ex- 
claimed: " O ! if consciousness remained to their buried father, 
how would he grieve that the people of Athens are unable to 
interpret his will 1" 

On this, being questioned, he explained the error of them 
all : " The house and the furniture, with the fine gardens, and 
the old wines, give to the Worker in wool, so fond of a 
country life. The clothes, the pearls, the attendants, and 
other things, make over to her who spends her life in luxury. 
The fields, the vines, and the flocks, with the shepherds, pre- 
sent to the Wanton. Not one will be able to retain posses- 
sion of what is alien to her taste. The Ungainly one will 
sell her wardrobe to procure wine \ the Wanton will part 
with the lands to procure fine clothes ; and she who delights 
in cattle, and attends to her spinning, will get rid of her 
luxurious abode at any price. Thus, no one will possess 
what was given, and they will pay to their Mother the sum 
named from the price of the things, which each of them 
has sold." 

Thus did the sagacity of one man find out what had bafHed 
the superficial enquiries of many. 



Fable VI. 

THE BATTLE OF THE MICE AND THE 

WEASELS. 

When the Mice, overcome by the army of the Weasels, 
(whose History is painted in our taverns 1 ), took to flight, and 
crowded in trepidation about their narrow lurking-holes, with 
difiiculty getting in, they managed, however, to escape death. 

1 A finely finished house) — Yer. 26. '''Politam" probably refers to 
the care with which the houses of the opulent in cities were smoothed 
by the workman's art. According to some Commentators, however, 
° domus polita" here means "a house furnished with every luxury." 

2 In our taverns) — Ver. 2. We learn from Horace and other ancient 
writers, that it was the custom to paint comic subjects on the walls 
of the taverns; and similar subjects have been found painted on w T alls 
at Pompeii. 



414 THE FABLES OP PBJEDRUS. Book IV. 

Their Leaders, who had fastened horns to their heads, in 
order that they might have a conspicuous sign for their troops 
to follov* in battle, stuck fast at the entrance, and were cap- 
tured by the enemy. The victor, sacrificing them with 
greedy teeth, plunged them into the Tartarean recesses of 
his capacious paunch. 

Whenever a people is reduced to the last extremity, the 
high position of its chiefs is in danger; the humble com- 
monalty easily finds safety in obscurity. 

Fable VII. 

THE POET'S DEFENCE AGAINST THE CENSTJREES 
OF HIS FABLES. 

You, fastidious critic, who carp at my writings, and dis- 
dain to read trifles of this kind, endure with some small 
patience this little book, while I smooth down the severity 
of your brow, and ^Esop comes forward in a new and more 
lofty style. 1 

Would that the pine had never fallen on the summits of 
Pelion 2 under the Thessalian axe! and that Argus had never, 
with the aid of Pallas, invented a way boldly to meet cer- 
tain death, in the ship which, to the destruction of Greeks 
and Barbarians, first laid open the bays of the inhosjritable 
Euxine. For both had the house of the proud IEetes to lament 
it, and the realms of Pelias 3 fell by the guilt of Medea, who, 
after concealing by various methods the cruelty of her dis- 
position, there effected her escape, by means of the limbs 4 of 

1 More lofty style) — Ver. 5. " Cothurnis," literally " the buskins of 
Tragedy." 

2 Summits of Pelion) — Ver 6. The ship Argo was said to have been 
built of wood grown on Mount Pelion. The author alludes to the 
expedition of .lason to Colchis to fetch thence the Golden Fleece. 

3 The realms of Pelias) — Ver. 13. He alludes to the death of Pelias, 
King of Thessaly, through the schemes of Medea, daughter of iEetes, 
King of Colchis, at the hands of his own daughters. See Ovid's Meta- 
morphoses, B. vii. 1. 297, etseq. 

4 Limbs of her brother)— Ver. 15. When, on her flight with Jason, 
iEetes pursued his daughter Medea, she, having taken with her her 
brother Absyrtus, in order to retard her father in the pursuit, cut her 
brother iu pieces, and scattered his limbs in the way. Thus, while the 
father was employed in gathering the limbs of his son, Medea made her 
escape. The place where this happened was thence said to have had 



Fable IX > the fables of ph^drus. 415 

her brother, and here embraed the hands of the daughters of 
Pelias in their father's blood. 

What think you of this ? " This, too, is mere folly," say 
you, " and is an untrue story; for long before this, Minos, of 
more ancient date, subjected the 'zEgsean seas with his fleet, 
and by seasonable correction, punished piratical attacks." 
What then can I possibly do for you, my Cato of a Reader, 
if neither Fables 1 nor Tragic Stories suit your taste ? Do not 
be too severe upon all literary men, lest they repay you the 
injury with interest. 

This is said to those who are over-squeamish in their folly, 
and, to gain a reputation for wisdom, would censure heaven 
itself. 

Fable YIIT. 
THE VIPER AjSTD THE FILE. 

Let him who with greedy teeth attacks one who can bite 
harder, consider himself described in this Fable. 

A Viper came 2 into a smith's workshop ; and while on 
the search whether there was anything fit to eat, fastened 
her teeth upon a File. That, however, disdainfully ex- 
claimed : " Why, fool, do you try to wound me w.'th your 
teeth, who am in the habit of gnawing asunder everv kind 
of inn V 



Fable IX. 

THE FOX AKD THE GOAT. 

As soon as a crafty man has fallen into danger, he seeks 
to make his escape by the sacrifice of another. 

the name of Torni; and to this place Ovid was banished by Augustus. 
See the Story related in the Tristia of Ovid. B. iii. El. ix. 

1 If neither Fables) -Yer. 22. By "fabelias," he probably means 
iEsopian iables, while by "tabula?/' the more lofty stories of tragedy 
are meant. By " Cato/' he means a censorious or over-scrupulous 
reader. 

2 A Viper entered)— Yew 3. Lokman, the Arabian Fabulist, has the 
same fable ; but there a Cat plays the part of the Viper. 



416 THE FABLES OP PH.EDRUS. Book IV. 

A Fox, through inadvertence, having fallen into a well, 1 
and being closed in by the sides which were too high for her, 
a Goat parched with thirst came to the same spot, and asked 
whether the water was good, and in plenty. The other, de- 
vising a stratagem, replied : " Come down, my friend: such is 
the goodness of the water, that my pleasure in drinking can- 
not be satisfied." Longbeard descended ; then the Eox, 
mounting on his high horns, escaped from the well, and left 
the Goat to stick fast in the enclosed mud. 



Fable X. 
OF THE VICES OF MEN. 

Jupiter has loaded us with a couple of Wallets : the one, 
filled with our own vices, he has placed at our backs, the 
other, heavy with those of others, he has hung before. 

From this circumstance, we are not able to see our own 
faults : but as soon as others make a slip, we are ready to 
censure. 

Fable XL 

A THIEF PILLAGING THE ALTAK OF JUPITER 

A Thief lighted his Lamp at the altar of Jupiter, and then 
plundered it by the help of its own light. Just as he was- 
taking his departure, laden with the results of his sacrilege, 
the Holy Place suddenly sent forth these words : " Although 
these were the gifts of the wicked, and to me abominable, so 
much so that I care not to be spoiled of them, still, profane 
man, thou shalt pay the penalty with thy life, when here- 
after, the day of punishment, appointed by fate, arrives. 
But, that our fire, by means of which piety worships the 
awful Gods, may not afford its light to crime, I forbid that 
henceforth there shall be any such interchange of light." 
Accordingly, to this day, it is neither lawful for a lamp to he 
lighted at the fire of the Gods, nor yet a sacrifice kindled 
from a lamp. 2 

1 Fallen into a ivell)—Yer. 3. Some of the Commentators think that 
Tiberius and S< janns are pointed at in this Fable. 

2 From a lamp) — Ver. 13. The ancients were compelled to light 
sacrifices to the Gods from torches, and not with fire from a lamp* 



Fable XIII. the fables of peledrus. 417 

No other than he who invented this Fable, could explain 
how many useful lessons it affords. In the first place, it 
teaches that those whom you yourself have brought up, may 
often be found the most hostile to you : then again, it shows 
that crimes are punished not through the wrath of the Gods, 
but at the time appointed by the Fates : lastly, it warns the 
good to use nothing in common with the wicked. 



Fable XII. 
THE EYILS OF WEALTH. 

Hercules and Plutus. 

Riches are deservedly despised by a man of worth, 1 because 
a well-stored chest intercepts praise from its true objects. 

When Hercules was received into heaven as the reward 
of his virtues, and saluted in turn the Gods who were con- 
gratulating him, on Plutus approaching, who is the child of 
Fortune, he turned away his eyes. Sis father, Jupiter, 
enquired the reason : u I hate him," says he, " because he 
is the friend of the wicked, and at the same time corrupts all 
by presenting the temptation of gain." 

Fable XIII. 
THE LION BEIGNING. 

Nothing is more advantageous to a man than to speak the 
truth ; a maxim that ought indeed to be approved of by all ; 
but still sincerity is frequently impelled to its own destruc- 
tion. 

The Lion having made himself king of the wild beasts, 
and wishing to acquire the reputation of equity, abandoned 
his former course of rapine, and, content among them 

More usually a lire was kept constantly burning in the temple for 
the purpose. 

1 A man of worth) — Yer. 1. It has been suggested that by "forti 
viro/' Phaedrus means a military man. The word "fortis" seems 
rather here to mean "of real worth/' or "of strong mind;' Some of 
ancient authors make Plutus to be the son of Ceres and Jasius. 

2e 



418 THE FABLES OF PILEDBUS. Book IV. 

with a moderate supply of food, distributed hallowed justice 
with incorruptible fidelity. But after second thoughts began 
to prevail 1 * * * * * * . * * 

(The rest is lost). 

Fable XIV. 
PROMETHEUS. 



A fictione veretri linguam mulieris, 
Affinitatem traxit inde obsccenitas. 
Bogavit alter, tribadas et niolles mares 
Quae ratio procreasset ? Exposuit senex. 
Idem Prometheus auctor vulgi fictilis 
(Qui simul offendit ad fortunam, frangitur,) 
Naturae partes, veste quas celat pudor, 
Quum separatim toto finxisset die, 
Aptare mox ut posset corporibus suis, 
Ad coenam est invitatus sub it o a Libero; 
Ubi irrigatus multo venas nectare 
Sero domum est reversus titubanti pede. 
Turn semisomno corde et errore ebrio, 
Applicuit virginale generi masculo, 
Et masculina membra applicuit faeminis; 
Ita nunc libido pravo fruitur gaudio. 



Fable XV. 
THE SHE-GOATS AND THEIB BEABDS. 

The She-Goats 2 having obtained of Jupiter the favour of a 

1 Began to prevail) — Ver. 9. The remainder of this Fable is lost. It 
is supposed to have been torn out of the MS. of the writings of Phsedrus 
by some pious monk, who, objecting to the following Fable, destroyed the 
leaf which contained the latter part of the present one, as well as some 
part of the next. Orellius considers the lines ending with " obsccenitas" 
as the fragment of a Fable distinct from the succeeding lines. 

2 The She-Goats)— -Ver. 1. This Fable is thought by some to bear 
reference to the interference of Livia in affairs of state. 



Fable XVII. the fables of phjsdrus. 419 

beard, the He-Goats, full of concern, began to be indignant 
that the females rivalled them in their dignity. "Suffer 
them," said the God, "to enjoy their empty honours, and to 
use the badge that belongs to your rank, so long as they 
are not sharers in your courage." 

This Fable teaches you to bear that those who are inferior 
to you in merit should be like you in outside appearances. 



Fable XVI. 
THE PILOT AND THE MARINERS.' 

On a certain man complaining of his adverse fortune, -ZEsop, 
for the purpose of consoling him, invented this Fable. 

A ship which had been tossed by a fierce tempest (while 
the passengers were all in tears, and filled with apprehensions 
of death) on the day suddenly changing to a serene aspect, 
began to be borne along in safety upon the buoyant waves, 
and to inspire the mariners with an excess of gladness. On 
this, the Pilot, who had been rendered wise by experience, 
remarked: "We ought to be moderate in our joy, and to 
complain with caution; for the whole of life is a mixture of 
grief and joy." 

Fable XVII. 
THE EMBASSY OF THE DOGS TO JUPITER. 

The Dogs once sent 1 Ambassadors to Jupiter, to entreat 
of him a happier lot in life, and that he would deliver 
them from the insulting treatment of man, who gave them 
bread mixed with bran, and satisfied their most urgent hunger 
with filthy offal. The ambassadors set out, but with no hasty 
steps, while snuffing with their nostrils for food in every filth. 
Being summoned, they fail to make their appearance. After 
some difficulty Mercury finds them at last, and brings them 

1 The Dogs once sent) — Ver. 1. It is supposed that in this singular 
Fable, Phaedrus ridicules, in a covert manner, some of the prevailing 
superstitions of his day, or else that he satirizes Tiberius and Sejanus, 
while the Dogs signify the Roman people. 

2e2 



420 THE FABLES OF PH^EDRUS. Book IV. 

up in confusion. As soon, however, as they saw the coun^ 
tenance of mighty Jove, in their fright they bewrayed the 
whole palace. Out they go, driven away with sticks ; but- 
great Jove forbade that they should be sent back. The 
Dogs, wondering that their Ambassadors did not return, 
and suspecting that they had committed something dis- 
graceful, after a while ordered others to be appointed to aid 
them. Rumour soon betrayed the former Ambassadors. 
Dreading that something of a similar nature may happen a 
second time, they stuff the Dogs behind with perfumes, 
and plenty of them. They give their directions ; the Am- 
bassadors are dispatched ; at once they take their departure. 
They beg for an audience, and forthwith obtain it. Then 
did the most mighty Father of the Gods take his seat on his 
throne, and brandish his thunders ; all things began to shake. 
The Dogs in alarm, so sudden was the crash, in a moment 
let fall the perfumes with their dung. All cry out, that the 
affront must be avenged. But before proceeding to punish- 
ment, thus spoke Jupiter : — " It is not for a King to send 
Ambassadors away, nor is it a difficult matter to inflict a 
proper punishment on the offence; but by way of judgment 
this is the reward you shall have. I don't forbid their 
return, but they shall be famished with hunger, lest they 
be not able to keep their stomachs in order.. And as for 
those who sent such despicable Ambassadors as you, they 
shall never be free from the insults of man. 5 ' 

And so it is, 1 that even now the Dogs of the present day 
are in expectation of their Ambassadors. When one of 
them sees a strange Dog appear, he snuffs at his tail. 



Fable XVIII. 

THE MAN AND THE SNAKE. 

He who gives relief to the wicked has to repent it before 
long. 

A Man took up a Snake stiffened with frost, and warmed 

1 And so it is) — Yer. 35. This and the next line are regarded by 
many as spurious : indeed Hare is disinclined to believe that this Fable 
was written by Phsedrus at all. 



Fable XIX. the fables of peledrus. 421 

her in his bosom, being compassionate to his own undoing ; 
for when she had recovered, she instantly killed the Man. 
On another one asking her the reason of this crime, she made 
answer: "That people may learn not to assist the wicked. 1 

Fable XIX. 
THE FOX AND THE DKAGOK 

While a Fox, digging a lair, was throwing out the earth, 
and making deeper and more numerous burrows, she came 
to the farthest recesses of a Dragon's den, 2 who was watching 
some treasure hidden there. As soon as the Fox perceived 
him, she began : — " In the first place, I beg that you will 
pardon my unintentional intrusion ; and next, as you see 
clearlv enough that gold is not suited to my mode of life, 
have the goodness to answer me : what profit do you derive 
from this toil, or what is the reward, so great that you 
should be deprived of sleep, and pass your life in darkness ? " 
"None at all? replied the other; "but this task has been 
assigned me by supreme Jove." (t Then you neither take 
anything for yourself, nor give to another?" K Such is the 
will of the Fates." " Don't be angry then, if I say frankly : 
the man is born under the displeasure of the Gods who is 
like you." 

As you must go to that place to which others have gone 
before, why in the blindness of your mind do you torment 
your wretched existence ? To you I address myself, Miser, 
joy of your heir, 3 who rob the Gods of their incense, your- 
yourself of food ; who hear with sorrow the musical sound 
of the lyre ; whom the joyous notes of the pipes torment; 

1 Not to assist the wicked) — Yer. 5. It has been remarked that 
Phsedrus here deviates from nature, in making the Serpent give a 
bad character of itself. Those who think that Phasdrus wrote after 
the time of Tiberius, suggest that Caligula is represented by the 
snake, who wreaked his cruelty on his former benefactors, Macro and 
Ennia. 

2 Of a Dragon's den) — Yer. 3. In former times, when riches were 
more commonly duried in the earth, it was perhaps found convenient to 
encourage a superstitious notion, which was very prevalent, that they 
were guarded by watchful Dragons. 

3 Joy of your heir) — Yer. 18. That is to say, in his death. 



422 THE FABLES OP PH^DRUS. Book IV. 

from whom the price of provisions extorts a groan ;* who, 
while adding some farthings to your estate, offend heaven 
by your sordid perjuries ; who are for cutting down 2 every 
expense at your funeral, for fear Libit ina 3 should be at all a 
gainer at the expense of your property. 



Fable XX. 
PH^EDEUS. 

Although malice may dissemble for the present, I am still 
perfectly aware what judgment it will think proper to 
arrive at. Whatever it shall here deem worthy to be trans- 
mitted to posterity, it will say belongs to -^Esop ; if it shall 
be not so well pleased with any portion, it will, for any 
wager, contend that the same was composed by me. One 
who thus thinks, I would refute once for all by this my 
answer : whether this work is silly, or whether it is worthy 
of praise, he was the inventor: my hand has brought it 
to perfection. But let us pursue our purpose in the order 
we proposed. 



Fable XXI. 
THE SHIPWRECK OF SIMONIDES. 

A learned man has always a fund of riches in himself. 

Simonides, who wrote such excellent lyric poems, the 
more easily to support his poverty, began to make a tour 
of the celebrated cities of Asia, singing the praises of victors 
for such reward as he might receive. After he had become 
enriched by this kind of gain, he resolved to return to his 

1 Extorts a groan) — Yer. 22. So in the Aulularia of Plautus, Act II. 
Sc. viii. the miser Euelio is represented as groaning over the high 
price of provisions. 

2 Cutting down) — Yer. 25, In his will. 

3 Lest Libitina)— Yer. 26. The " pollinctores," or "undertakers," 
kept their biers and other implements required at funerals, at the 
Temple of the Goddess Libitina. 



Fable XXII. the fables of ph^drus. 423 

native land by sea; (for he was born, it is said, in the island 
of Ceos 1 ). Accordingly be embarked in a ship, which a dreadful 
tempest, together with its own rottenness, caused to founder 
at sea. Some gathered together their girdles, 2 others their 
precious effects, ichicli formed the support of their existence. 
One who was over inquisitive, remarked : " Are you going 
to save none of your property, Simonides?" He made 
reply: "All my possessions are about me." A few only made 
their escape by swimming, for the majority, being weighed 
down by their burdens, perished. Some thieves make their 
appearance, and seize what each person has saved, leaving 
them naked. Clazomense, an ancient city, chanced to be 
near; to which the shipwrecked persons repaired. Here a 
person devoted to the pursuits of literature, who had often 
read the lines of Simonides, and was a very great admirer 
of him though he had never seen him, knowing from his very 
language who he teas, received him with the greatest pleasure 
into his house, and furnished him with clothes, money, and 
attendants. The others meanwhile were carrying about their 
pictures, 3 begging for victuals. Simonides chanced to meet 
them ; and, as soon as he saw them, remarked : " I told you 
that all my property was about me; what you endeavoured 
to save is lost." 



Fable XXII. 
THE MOUNTAIN IN LABOUR 

A Mountain 4 was in labour, sending forth dreadful groans, 

1 In the island of Ceos) — Ver. 28. The poet Simonides was born at 
Iulis, a city of the isle of Ceos, one of the Cyckdes, in the iEgaean Sea. 

2 Their girdles) — Yer. 11. Among the ancients, the zones or girdles 
were sometimes used for the purpose of keeping money there ; while 
sometimes purses were carried suspended from them. 

3 Carrying about their pictures) — Yer. 24. It was the custom for 
shipwrecked persons to go about soliciting charity with a painting 
suspended from the neck, representing their calamity; much in the 
fashion which we sometimes see followed at the present day. 

4 A Mountain) — Yer. 1. Tachos, King of Egypt, is said by Plutarch 
to have said to Agesilaiis, King of Sparta, when he came to his assist- 



424 THE FABLES OF PH2EDRUS. Book IV, 

and there was in the districts the highest expectation. After 
all, it brought forth a Mouse. 

This is designed for you, who, when you have threatened 
great things, produce nothing. 



Fable XXIII. 
THE ANT AND THE FLY. 

An Ant and a Fly were contending with great warmth 
which was of the greater importance. The Fly was the first 
to begin : " Can you possibly compare with my endow- 
ments ? When a sacrifice is made, I am the first to taste 
of the entrails that belong to the Gods. I pass my time 
among the altars, I wander through all the temples ; soon 
as I have espied it, I seat myself on the head of a king ; and 
I taste of the chaste kisses of matrons. I labour not, and 
yet enjoy the nicest of things : what like to this, good rustic, 
falls to your lot ?" " Eating with the Gods," said the Ant, 
" is certainly a thing to be boasted of; but by him who is 
invited, not him who is loathed as an intruder. You talk 
about kings and the kisses of matrons. While I am carefully 
heaping up a stock of grain for winter, I see you feeding on 
filth about the walls. You frequent the altars; yes, and 
are driven away as often as you come. You labour not; 
therefore it is that you have nothing when you stand in 
need of it. And, further, you boast about what modesty 
ought to conceal. You tease me in summer ; when winter 
comes you are silent. While the cold is shrivelling you up 
and putting you to death, a well-stored abode harbours me. 
Surely I have now pulled down your pride enough." 

A Fable of this nature distinctly points out the characters 
of those who set themselves off with unfounded praises, and 
of those whose virtues gain solid fame. 

ance : " The mountain has been in labour, Jupiter has been in alarm, 
but it has brought forth a mouse," alluding to the diminutive stature 
of Agesilaus ; who contented himself with replying, in answer to this, 
rude remark : u One day I shall appear to you even to be a lion." 



Fable XXIV. the fables of ph^drus. 425 

Fable XXIV. 
SIMONIDES PRESERVED BY THE GODS. 

I have said, above, how greatly learning is esteemed 
among men : I will now hand down to posterity how great 
is the honor paid to it by the Gods. 

Simonides, the veiy same of whom I have before made 
mention, agreed, at a fixed price, to write a panegyric for 
a certain Pugilist, 1 who had been victorious : accordingly he 
sought retirement. As the meagreness of his subject cramped 
his imagination, he used, according to general custom, the 
license of the Poet, and introduced the twin stars of Leda,* 
citing them as an example of similar honours. He finished 
the Poem according to contract, but received only a third part 
of the sum agreed upon. On his demanding the rest : "They/* 
said he, " will give it you whose praises occupy the otlier two- 
thirds; but, that I may feel convinced that you have not 
departed in anger, promise to dine with me, as I intend 
to-day to invite my kinsmen, in the number of whom I 
reckon you. Although defrauded, and smarting under the 
injury, in order that he might not, by parting on bad terms, 
break off all friendly intercourse, he promised that he would. 
At the hour named he returned, and took his place at table. 
The banquet shone joyously with its cups; the house re- 
sounded with gladness, amid vast preparations, when, on a 
sudden, two young men, covered with dust, and dripping 
with perspiration, their bodies of more than human form, 
requested one of the servants to call Simonides to them, and 
say that it was of consequence to him to make no delay. 
The man, quite confused, called forth Simonides ; and hardly 
had he put one foot out of the banquetting room, when sud- 
denly the fall of the ceiling crushed the rest , and no young 
men were to be seen at the gate. 

1 A certain Pugilist) — Ver. 5. "Pyctae;" from the Greek ttvktijc, a 
" boxer," or "pugilist/' Latinized. 

2 Twin stars of Leda) — Yer. 9. Castor and Pollux, the twin sons 
of Leda. 



426 THE FABLES OF PHJEDRUS. Book IV. 

When the circumstances of the story I have told were 
made known, all were persuaded that the personal inter- 
vention of the Divinities had saved the Poet's life by way 
of reward. 



EPILOGUE. 



There are still remaining many things which I might say, 
and there is a copious abundance of subjects ; but though 
witticisms, well-timed, are pleasing; out of place, they dis- 
gust. Wherefore, most upright Particulo (a name destined 
to live in my writings, so long as a value shall continue to 
be set upon the Latin literature), if you like not my genius, 
at least ajDprove my brevity, which has the more just claim 
to be commended, seeing how wearisome Poets usually are. 1 

1 Usually are) — Ver. 9. Orellius introduces this after Fable V in 
the Fifth Book. 



Fable I. THE FABLES OF PHiEDHUS. 427 



BOOK V. 

PROLOGUE. 

If I shall anywhere insert the name of iEsop, to whom 
I have already rendered every honor that was his due, know 
that it is for the sake of his authority, just as some sta- 
tuaries do in our day, who obtain a much greater price for 
their productions, if they inscribe the name of Praxiteles on 
their marbles, and Myron 1 on their polished silver. There- 
fore let these Fables obtain a hearing. Carping envy more 
readily favours the works of antiquity than those of the pre- 
sent day. But now I turn to a Fable, with a moral to the 
purpose. 



Fable I. 

DEMETRIUS AND MENANDER. 

Demetrius, 1 who was called Phalereus, unjustly took pos- 
session of the sovereignty of Athens. The mob, according 
to their usual practice, rush from all quarters vying with 
each other, and cheer him, and wish him joy. Even the 

1 And Myron) — Yer. 7. Myron was a famous sculptor, statuary, and 
engraver, of Greece. He was a native of Eleutherae, in Boeotia, and 
according to Petronius Arbiter, died in extreme poverty. 

2 Called Phalereus) — Yer. 1. Demetrius Phalereus, the statesman, 
philosopher, and ruler of Athens, was so called from the Attic demus, or 
borough of Phalerus, where he was born. He died in exile in Egypt, 
according to some accounts, of the bite of a serpent. There seems no 
good reason for giving to his rule over the Athenians the epithet of 
" improbum," found in the next line, although in the latter years of his 
government he gave himself up in a great measure to sensual pursuits. 



428 THP FABLES OF PH2EDRUS. Book V. 

chief men kiss the hand by which they are oppressed, while 
they silently lament the sad vicissitudes of fortune. More- 
over, those who live in retirement, and take their ease, 
come creeping in last of all, that their absence may not 
injure them. Among these Menander, famous 1 for his Come- 
dies (which Demetrius, who did uot know him, had read, 
and had admired the genius of the man), perfumed with 
unguents, and clad in a flowing robe, came with a mincing 
and languid step. As soon as the Tyrant caught sight of 
him at the end of the train : " What effeminate wretch," 
said he, " is this, who presumes to come into my presence ?" 
Those near him made answer : " This is Menander the Poet." 
Changed in an instant, he exclaimed : " A more agreeable 
looking man could not possibly exist." 



Fable II. 
THE TEAVELLEBS AND THE BOBBER 

Two Soldiers having fallen in with a Bobber, one fled, 
while the other stood his ground, and defended himself 
with a stout right-hand. The Eobber slain, his cowardly 
companion comes running up, and draws his sword; then 
throwing back his travelling cloak, 2 says : " Let's have him :" 
" I'll take care he shall soon know whom he attacks." On 
this, he who had vanquished the robber made answer : " I 
wish you had seconded me just now at 'least with those 
words j I should have been still more emboldened, believing 
them true ; now keep your sword quiet, as well as your silly 
tongue, that you may be able to deceive others who don't 
know you. I, who have experienced with what speed you 
take to your heels, know full well that no dependence is to 
be placed upon your valour." 

This story may be applied to him who is courageous in 
prosperity, in times of danger takes to flight. 

1 Menander , famous)— ~V ex. 9. Menander, the inventor of the !New 
Comedy. Some of the Comedies of Terence are Translations from his 
works. 

2 His travelling cloak) — Yer. 5. The "paenula" was a travelling- 
cloak made of leather or wool, with a hood attached to it, to cover 
the head. 



Fable V. the fables of ph;£Drus. 429 

Fable III. 
THE BALD MAN AND THE FLY. 

A Fly "bit the bare pate of a Bald Man ; -who, endea- 
vouring to crush it, gave himself a heavy blow. Then said 
the Fly jeeringly : ft You wanted to revenge the sting 
of a tiny insect with death ; what will you do to yourself, 
who have added insult to injury?" TJie Man made answer : 
" I am easily reconciled to myself, because I know that there 
was no intention of doing harm. But you, worthless insect, 
and one of a contemptible race, who take a delight in drink- 
ing human blood, I could wish to destroy you, even at a 
heavier penalty." 

This Fable teaches that pardon is to be granted to him 
who errs through mistake. But Mm who is designedly mis- 
chievous, I deem to be deserving of any punishment. 

Fable IY. 
THE MAN AND THE ASS. 

A Man having sacrificed a young boar to the god Her- 
cules, to whom he owed performance of a vow made for the 
preservation of his health, ordered the remains of the barley 
to be set for the Ass. But he refused to touch it, and said : 
"I would most willingly accept your food, if he who had 
been fed upon it had not had his throat cut." 

Warned by the significance of this Fable, I have always 
been careful to avoid the gain that exposed to hazard. 
" But," say you, " those who have got riches by rapine, are 
still in possession of them." Come, then, let us enumerate 
those, who, being detected, have come to a bad end ; you will 
find that those so punished constitute a great majority. 

Rashness brings luck to a few, misfortune to most. 

g Fable Y. 

THE BUFFOON AND THE COUNTRYMAN. 

Men are in the habit of erring through prejudice; and 



430 THE FABLES OF PH^EDRUS. Book V. 

while they stand up in defence of their erroneous notions, 
are wont to be driven by plain facts to confession of their 
mistakes. 

A rich Man, about to entertain the people with grand 
shows, invited all, by the promise of a reward, to exhibit 
whatever new piece of ingenuity any one could. The 
Performers came to the contest for fame, among whom a 
Buffoon, well known for his drollery, said that he had a kind 
of entertainment which had never yet been brought out at 
any theatre. The rumour, spreading, brought together the 
whole city ; and the places, empty shortly before, sufficed 
not for the multitude. But as soon as he appeared on the 
stage, alone, and without any apparatus, any stage-assistants, 
the very intenseness of expectation produced silence. Sud- 
denly, he dropped down his head towards his bosom, and so 
well did he imitate the voice of a pig with his own, that 
they concluded there was a real one under his cloak, and 
ordered it to be shaken out. This being done, as soon as 
they found that nothing was discovered, they loaded the 
Man with many praises, and bestowed upon him the greatest 
applause. 

A Countryman seeing this take place : * Egad," said he, 
" he shan't surpass me ;" and immediately gave out that he 
would do the same thing still better on the following day, 
A still greater crowd assembled. Prejudice had already 
taken possession of their minds, and they took their seats, 
determined to deride, and not as unbiassed spectators. Both 
Performers come forth. Pirst, the Buffoon grunts away, and 
excites their applause, and awaken their acclamations. Next, 
the Countryman, pretending that he concealed a pig beneath 
his clothes (which, in fact, he did; but quite unsuspected, 
because they had found none about the other), twitched the 
ear of the real pig, which he was concealing, and with the 
pain forced from it its natural cry. The people shouted with 
one voice that the Buffoon had given a much more exact 
imitation, and ordered the Countryman to be driven from 
the stage. On this, he produced the pig itself from the folds 
of his cloak, and convicting them of their disgraceful mistake 
by a manifest proof : " Look," said he, " this shows what 
sort of judges you are." 



Fable VII. the fables of ph^edrus. 431 

Fable VI. 
THE TWO BALD MEN". 

A Bald Man chanced to find a comb in the public road. 
Another, equally destitute of hair, came up : " Come," said 
he, "shares, whatever it is you have found." The other 
showed the booty, and added withal : " The will of the Gods 
has favoured us, but through the malignity of fate, we have 
found, as the saying is, a coal instead of a treasure." 

This complaint befits him whom hope has disappointed. 

Fable VII. 
PRINCEPS, THE FLUTE-PLAYER 

When a weak mind, beguiled by frivolous applause, has 
once given way to insolent self-sufficiency, such foolish vanity 
is easily exposed to ridicule. 

Princeps, the Flute-player, was pretty well known, being 
accustomed to accompany Bathyllus 1 with his music on 
the stage. It chanced that, at a representation, I don't 
well remember what it was, while the flying-machine 2 was 
being whirled along, he fell heavily, through inadvertence, 
and broke his left leg, when he would much rather have 
parted with two right ones. 3 He was picked up and carried 
to his house groaning aloud. Some months pass by before 
his cure is completed. As is the way with the spectators, 
for they are a merry race, the man began to be missed, by 

1 Accompany Bathyllus) — Yer. 5. He alludes to Bathyllus, the 
favourite and freedman of Mecaenas, and who brought to perfection 
pantomimic dancing at Rome. 

2 Flying-machine) — Ver. 7. The " pegma " was a piece of machinery 
used on the stage for the purpose of aiding the ascents and descents 
of the Gods there represented. 

3 Losing two right ones) — Yer. 9. The Poet puns on the twofold 
meanings of the word " tibia," which signifies the main bone of the 
leg, and a pipe or flute. These pipes were right-handed or left-handed, 
probably varying in tone, two being played at a time. Explained 
at length, the pun means, " Princeps broke his left leg, when he could 
have better afforded to break two right-handed pipes. ,, 



432 THE FABLES OF PHJSDRUS. Book V. 

whose blasts the vigour of the dancer was wont to be kept 
at full stretch. 

A certain Nobleman was about to exhibit a show, just 
when Princeps was beginning to walk abroad. With a pre- 
sent and entreaties he prevailed upon him merely to present 
himself on the day of the show. When the day came a 
rumour about the Flute-player ran through the theatre. 
Some affirmed that he was dead, some that he would ap- 
pear before them without delay. The curtain falling/ the 
thunders rolled, 2 and the Gods conversed in the usual form. 
At this moment the Chorus struck up a song unknown to 
him who had so recently returned ; of which the burthen 
was this : " Rejoice, Rome, in security, for your prince 
[Princeps] is well." All rise with one consent and applaud. 
The Flute-player kisses hands, and imagines that his friends 
are congratulating him. The Equestrian order perceive the 
ridiculous mistake, and with loud laughter encore the song. 
It is repeated. My man now throws himself sprawling at 
full length upon the stage. 3 Ridiculing him, the Knights 
applaud ; while the people fancy he is only asking for a 
chaplet. When, however, the reality came to be known 
throughout all the tiers, Princeps, his leg bound up with 
a snow-white fillet, clad in snow-white tunic, and snow- 
white shoes, 4 while pluming himself on the honors really 
paid to the Deified House, 5 was thrust out headlong by com- 
mon consent. 

1 The curtain falling) — Ver. 23. The "aulaeum," or stage-curtain, 
called also " siparium," was a piece of tapestry stretched on a frame, 
■which, rising before the stage, concealed it till the actors appeared. 
Instead of drawing up this curtain to discover the stage and actors, 
according to the present practice, it was depressed when the play began, 
and fell beneath the level of the stage : whence " aulsea premuntur " or 
" mittuntur," " the curtain is dropped," meant that the play had began. 

2 The thunders rolled) — Ver. 23. This thunder was made by the 
noise of rolling stones in copper vessels. 

3 Upon the stage)— Ver. 32. The " pulpitum" was properly an 
elevated place on the proscenium, or space between the scene and the 
orchestra. 

4 Snow-white shoes) — Yer. 37. We learn from Ovid and other 
authors that white shoes were solely worn by the female sex. 

5 To the Deified house) — Yer. 38. Taking to himself the honor that 
belonged to the house of Augustus, which was worshipped with Divine 
honors. 



Fable X. the fables of ph.edrus. 433 

Fable VIII. 
THE EMBLEM OF OPPORTUNITY. 

A Bald Man, balancing on a razor's edge, fleet of foot, 
bis forehead covered with hair, 1 his body naked — if you 
have caught him, hold him fast ; when he has once escaped, 
not Jupiter himself can overtake him : he is the emblem how 
shortlived is Opportunity. 

The ancients devised such a portraiture of Time, to signify 
that slothful delav should not hinder the execution of our 
purposes. 

Fable IX. 
THE BULL AND THE CALF. 

When a Bull "was struggling with his horns in a narrow 
passage, and could hardly effect an entrance to the manger, 
a Calf began to point out in what way he might turn himself : 
w Hush," said the Bull, " I knew that before you were born." 

Let him who would instruct a wiser man, consider this 
as said to himself. 

Fable X. 

THE HQ1STSMAN AND THE DOG. 

A Dog. who had always given satisfaction to his master 
by his boldness against swift and savage beasts, began to 
grow feeble under increasing years. On one occasion, being 

1 His forehead covered with hair) — Yer. 2. From this figure of Time 
or Opportunity. Time came to be represented in the middle ages with 
a tuft of hair on his forehead; whence our common expression "To 
take time by the forelock," signifying to make the best of an 
opportunity."' 

2f 



434 THE FABLES OP PELEDRUS. 

urged to the combat with a bristling Boar, he seized him by 
the ear ; but, through the rottenness of his teeth, let go his 
prey. Yexed at this, the Huntsman upbraided the Dog. 
Old Barker 1 replied: "It is not my courage that dis- 
appoints you, but my strength. You commend me for 
what I have been ; and you blame me that I am not what 
I ivas. 

You, Philetus, 2 may easily perceive why I have written 
this. 

1 Old Barker) — Ver. 7. We may here enumerate the names of this 
nature, which we find given by Phsedrus to various animals : " laniger," 
" wool-bearer," the sheep ; " auritulus," " long-ears," the ass; " sonipes," 
" sounding hoof," the horse; " barbatus," " long-beard," the goat; 
" retorridus," " brindle," the mouse ; and " latrans/' " barker," the dog. 

2 Philetus.) — Yer. 10. Of this Philetus nothing certain is known, 
but he is supposed to have been a freedman of the emperor Claudius. 



THE NEW FABLES, 

BY SOME ATTBIBUTED TO PH^EDBUS. 



Fable I. 

THE APE AND THE FOX. 

The Greedy Man is not willing to give even from his 
superabundance. 

An Ape asked a Fox for a part of her tail, that lie might 
decently cover his naked hinder parts therewith; but the 
ill-natured creature replied : " Although it grow even longer 
than it is, still I will sooner drag it through mud and 
brambles, than give you ever so small a part thereof P 

1 Attributed to Phcedrus) — Cassito and Jannelli, with several other 
critics, are strongly of opinion that these Fables were written by Phaed- 
rus. On a critical examination, however, they will be found to be 
so dissimilar in style and language from those acknowledged to be 
by Phsedrus, that it is very difficult not to come to the conclusion 
that they are the work of some more recent writer, of inferior genius, 
and less pure latinity. They were first published in 1809, at Naples, 
by Cassito, from a MS. which had belonged to Nicholas Perotti, 
Archbishop of Sipontum or Manfredonia, at the end of the fifteenth 
century, and who, notwithstanding his assertions to the contrary, was 
perhaps either the author of them or altered them very materially. 
They appear in the MSS. in a mutilated condition ; and the lacunae 
have been filled up according to the fancy of the successive Editors of 
the Fables. Those inserted in Gail's edition have in general been here 
adopted. 

9 v O 



436 THE NEW FABLES OF PH^DRUS. Fable IL 



Fable II. 
THE AUTHOR 

We must not require what is unreasonable. 

If Nature had 1 formed the human race according to my 
notions, it would have been far better endowed: for she 
would have given us every good quality that indulgent 
Fortune has bestowed on any animal: the strength of the 
Elephant, and the impetuous force of the Lion, the age of 
the Crow, the majestic port of the fierce Bull, the gentle 
tractableness of the fleet Horse ; and Man should still have 
had the ingenuity that is peculiarly his own. Jupiter in 
heaven laughs to himself, no doubt, he who, in his mighty 
plan, denied these qualities to men, lest our audacity should 
wrest from him the sceptre of the world. Contented, there- 
fore, with the gifts of unconquered Jove, let us pass the years 
of our time allotted by fate, nor attempt more than mortality 
permits. 

Fable III. 
MEKCTJBY AKD THE TWO WOMEN. 

Another Table on the same subject. 

Once on a time, two Women had given their guest, 
Mercury, a mean and sordid entertainment; one of the 
women had a little son in the cradle, while the profession of 
a Courtesan had its charms for the other. In order, there- 
fore that he might give a suitable return for their services, 
when about to depart, and just crossing the threshold, he said : 
" In me you behold a God ; I will give you at once whatever 
each may wish." The Mother makes her request, and asks 
that she may immediately see her Son graced with a beard; 
the Courtesan requests that whatever she touches may follow 
her. Mercury flies away — the women return in-doors : behold 

1 If nature had) — Ver. 1. This can hardly be styled a Fable; it is 
merely an Epilogue or moral lesson. 



Fable IV. the new fables of peledrus. 437 

the infant, with a beard, is crying aloud. The Courtesan 
happened to laugh heartily at this, on which the humours 
of the head filled her nostrils, as is often the case. Intending 
therefore to blow her nose, she seized it with her hand, and 
drew out its length to the ground; and thus, while laughing 
at another, she became herself a subject for laughter. 1 



Fable IY. 
PEOMETHEUS AND CUNNING. 

On Truth and Falsehood. 

"When once Prometheus, the framer of a new race, had formed 
Truth from fine earth, that she might be able to dispense 
justice among mankind, being suddenly summoned by the 
messenger of great Jove, he left his workshop in charge of 
treacherous Cunning, w r hom he had lately received in appren- 
ticeship. The latter, inflamed by zeal, with clever hand 
formed an image of similar appearance, corresponding stature, 
and like in every limb, so far as the time permitted. When 
nearly the whole had now been wondrously set up, he found 
he had no clay to make the feet. His master came back, 
and Cunning, confused by fear at his quick return, sat down 
in his own place. Prometheus, admiring so strong a re- 
semblance, wished the merit to appear to belong to his 
own skill, and therefore placed the two images together in 
the furnace. When they were thoroughly baked, and life 
had been breathed into them, hallowed Truth moved on 
with modest gait ; but her imperfect copy remained fixed on 
the spot. Thence the spurious image, the result of the 
stealthy work, was called Mendacity, 2 because they say, she 
has no feet, — an assertion with which I readily agree. 

1 For laughter) — Yer. 17. This story savours more of the false wit 
of the middle ages than of the genius of Phsedrus. 

2 Was called Mendacity) — Yer. 21. There is a sort of pun intended 
upon the word " menda," a blemish." Because Falsehood was blemished 
in having no feet, she was called "mendacium" or "mendacity." 
Here the author's etymology is at fault, as the word " mendacity" 
comes from " mentior," to lie ; which is not likely to have been 
derived from " menda. 5 ' Besides, Falsehood, whether she has feet or 
not, generally travels more speedily than Truth. 



438 THE NEW FABLES OF PHJEDRUS. JEWe V 

Fable V. 1 
THE AUTHOR 

Nothing is long concealed. 

* * * Pretended vices are sometimes profitable to men, 
"but still the truth appears in time. 

Fable VI. 

THE SIGNIFICATION OF THE PUNISHMENTS 
OF TARTAR US. 

The meaning is to be considered, not the mere words. 

The story of Ixion, whirling round upon the wheel, teaches 
us what a rolling thing is fortune. Sisyphus, with immense 
labour, pushing the stone up the lofty hill, which ever, his 
labour lost, rolls back from the top, shows that men's 
miseries are endless. When Tantalus is athirst, standing 
in the midst of the river, the greedy are described, whom a 
sufficiency of blessings surrounds, but none can they enjoy. 
The wicked Danaids carry water in urns, and cannot fill 
their pierced vessels; just so, whatever you bestow on luxury, 
will flow out beneath. Wretched Tityus is stretched over 
nine acres, 1 presenting for dire punishment a liver that ever 
grows again : by this it is shown that the greater the extent 
of land a man possesses, the heavier are his cares. Antiquity 
purposely wrapped up the truth, in order that the wise might 
understand — the ignorant remain in error. 

1 Fable V.) — This seems to be only a fragment ; probably the moral 
of a Fable now lost. 

2 Nine acres) — Yer. 13. " Jugera." The "jugerum" was a piece of 
land 240 feet long by 120 wide. 



Fable VIII. the new fables of ph^edrus. 439 

Fable VII. 

THE AUTHOR. 

On the Oracle of Apollo. 

Phoebus! who dost inhabit Delphi and the beauteous 
Parnassus, say what is most useful to us. Why do the 
locks of the holy prophetess stand erect; the tripods shake; 
the holy shrines resound; the laurels, too/ quiver, and the 
very day grow pale ? Smitten by the Divinity, the Pythia 
utters these words, and the warning of the Delian God 
instructs the nations: "Practise virtue; pay your vows 
to the Gods above; defend your country, your parents, your 
children, and your chaste wives with arms; repel the foe 
with the sword; assist your friends; spare the wretched; 
favour the good; meet the treacherous face to face; punish 
offences; chastise the impious; inflict vengeance on those 
who, by base adultery, defile the marriage couch ; beware 
of the wicked; trust no man too far." Thus having said, 
the Maiden falls frenzied to the ground: frenzied; indeed^ 
for what she said, she said in vain. 



Fable VIII. 

^ESOP AND THE AUTHOR 

On a lad Author who praised himself. 

A Person had recited 2 some worthless composition to 
JEsop, in which he had inordinately bragged about himself. 
Desirous, therefore, to know what the Sage thought thereof: 
" Does it appear to you," said he, " that I have been too 

1 The laurels, fooj— Ver. 5. The " cortina" or oracular shrine was 
surrounded with laurels ; which were said to quiver while the oracles 
were being pronounced. This is probably the most beautiful portion 
of these newly-discovered poems. Still, it cannot with propriety be 
called a Fable. 

2 A person had recited)— Yer. 1. Adry remarks that this is not a 
Eable, but only an Epigram. 



440 THE NEW FABLES OF PH^DRUS. Fable IX. 

conceited ? I have no empty confidence in my own capa- 
city." Worried to death with the execrable volume, a^Esop 
replied : " I greatly approve of your bestowing praise 
on yourself, for it will never be your lot to receive it from 
another." 



Fable IX. 
POMPEITIS MAGNUS AND HIS SOLDIER 

How difficult it is to understand a man. 

A Soldier of Pompeius Magnus, a man of huge bulk, by 
talking mincingly and walking with an affected gait, had 
acquired the character of an effeminate wretch, and that most 
fully established. Lying in wait by night for the beasts of 
burden of his General, he drives away the mides laden with 
garments and gold, and a vast weight of silver. A rumour 
of what has been done gets abroad; the soldier is accused, and 
carried off to the Prsetorium. On this, Magnus says to liim : 
" How say you ? Have you dared to rob me, comrade ? " The 
soldier forthwith spits into his left hand, and scatters about 
the spittle with his fingers. " Even thus, General," says he, 
" may my eyes drip out, if I have seen or touched your pro- 
perty." Then Magnus, a man of easy disposition, orders the 
false accusers to be sent about their business, 1 and will not 
believe the man guilty of so great audacity. 

Not long afterwards a barbarian, confiding in his strength 
of hand, challenges one of the Romans. Each man fears 
to accept the challenge, and the leaders of highest rank 
mutter among themselves. At length, this effeminate wretch 
in appearance, but Mars in prowess, approached the Gene- 
ral, who was seated on his tribunal, and, with a lisping 
voice, said " May I ?" 2 But Magnus, getting angry, as 

1 About their business) — Yer. 13. The words suggested in Orellius, 
"Indicii falsi auctores propelli jubet," are used here to fill up the 
lacuna. 

2 May I ?) — Yer. 29. "Licet?' meaning: "Do you give me per- 
mission to go against the enemy?' The story about the spittle savours 
of the middle ages. 



Fable X. the new fables of ph^deus. 441 

as icell lie might, the matter being so serious, ordered him to 
be turned out. Upon this, an aged man among the Chief- 
tain's friends, remarked: K I think it would be better for 
this person to be exposed to the hazards of Fortune, since in 
him our loss would be but small, than a valiant man, who, if 
conquered through some mischance, might entail upon you 
a charge of rashness."' Magnus acquiesced, and gave the 
Soldier permission to go out to meet tlie champion, whose 
head, to the surprise of the army, he whipped off sooner 
than you could say it, and returned victorious. Thereupon 
said Pompeius : "With great pleasure I present you with 
the soldier's crown, because you have vindicated the honor 
of the Honian name ; nevertheless," said he, " may my eyes 
drip out " (imitating the unseemly act with which the Soldier 
had accompanied his oath), "if you did not carry off my 
property from among the baggage." 



Fable X. 

JUNO, VENUS, AND THE HEN. 

On the Lustful ness of Women. 

When Juno 1 was praising her own chastity, Venus did 
not lose the opportunity of a joke, and, to show that there 
was no female equal to herself in that virtue, is said to have 
asked this question of the Hen : " Tell me, will you, with 
how much food could you be satisfied r " The hen replied : 
"Whatever* you give me will be enough; but still you 
must let me scratch a bit with my feet." "To keep you 
from scratching," said the Goddess, "is a measure of wheat 
enough ?" "Certainly; indeed it is too much ; but still do 
allow me to scratch." " In fine," said Venus, " what do you 
reqviire, on condition of not scratching at all r" Then at 
last the hen confessed the weak point in her nature : 
" Though a whole barn were open for me, still scratch I 
must." Juno is said to have laughed at the joke of Venus, 
for by the Hen she meant the Female Sex. 

1 When Juno)— Yer. 1. This story is both silly and in very bad 
taste. 



442 THE NEW FABLES OF PH^DRUS. Fable XL 

Fable XL 
THE FATHER OF A FAMILY AND ^ESOP. 

How a bad-tempered Son may be tamed. 

A Father of a family had a passionate Son, who, as soon 
as he had got out of his father's sight, inflicted many a blow 
upon the servants, and gave loose to the impetuous temper 
of youth. .ZEsop consequently told this short story to the 
old man. 

A certain Man was yoking an old Ox along with a Calf; 
and when the Ox shunning to bear the yoke with a neck so 
unfit for it, alleged the failing strength of his years : " You 
have no reason to fear," said the Countryman, " I don't do 
this that you may labour, but that you may tame him, who 
with his heels and horns has made many lame." Just so ? 
unless you always keep your son by you, and by your manage- 
ment restrain his temper, take care that the broils in your 
house don't increase to a still greater degree. Gentleness 
is the remedy for a bad temper. 1 

Fable XII. 

THE PHILOSOPHER AND THE VICTOR IN THE 
GYMNASTIC GAMES. 

Sow JBoastfulness may sometimes be checked. 

A Philosopher chancing to find the Victor in a gymnastic 
contest too fond of boasting, asked him whether his ad- 
versary had been the stronger man. To this the other 
replied: "Don't mention it; my strength was far greater." 
" Then, you simpleton," retorted the Philosopher, " what 
praise do you deserve, if you, being the stronger, have con- 
quered one who was not so powerful ? You might perhaps 
have been tolerated if you had told us that you had conquered 
one who was your superior in strength." 

1 Remedy for a bad temper) — Ver. 15. This doctrine is stated in far 
too general terms. 



Fable XIV. the xew fables of phjEDrus. 443 

.Fable XIII. 

THE ASS AND THE LYRE. 

How Genius is often wasted through Misfortune. 

An Ass espied a Lyre lying in a meadow : be approached 
and tried the strings with his hoof; they sounded at his 
touch. " By my faith, a pretty thing," said he ; " it happens 
unfortunately that I am not skilled in the art. If any 
person of greater skill had found it, he might have charmed 
my ears with divine notes." 

So Genius is often wasted through Misfortune. 1 



Fable XIV. 
THE WIDOW AND THE SOLDIER. 

The great Inconstancy and Lustfulness of Women. 

A certain Woman 2 had for some years lost her beloved 
Husband, and had placed his body in a tomb ; and as she 
could by uo means be forced from it, and passed her life in 
mourning at the sepulchre, she obtained a distinguished 
character for strict chastity. In the meantime, some persons 
who had plundered the temple of Jupiter suffered the 
penalty of crucifixion. In order that no one might remove 
their remains, soldiers were appointed as guards of the dead 
bodies, close by the monument in which the woman had 
shut herself up. Some time after, one of the Guards, being 
thirsty, asked, in the middle of the night, for some water, 
of a servant-maid, who chanced just then to be assisting 
her mistress, who was going to rest ; for she had been watch- 
ing by a lamp, and had prolonged her vigils to a late hour. 
The door being a little open, the Soldier peeps in, and beholds 

1 Genius often wasted*) — Yer. 7. It seems to border upon the absurd 
to speak of an ass losing the opportunity of cultivating his a ingenium." 
He can hardly vith propriety be quoted under any circumstances as a 
specimen of a " mute inglorious Milton.'' 

2 A certain Woman) — Yer. 1. This is the story of the Matron of 
Ephesus, told in a much more interesting manner by Petronius 
Arbiter. 



444 THE NEW FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. Fable XY. 

a Woman, emaciated indeed, but of beauteous features. His 
smitten heart is immediately inflamed, and lie gradually 
burns with unchaste desires. His crafty shrewdness in- 
vents a thousand pretences for seeing her more frequently. 
Wrought upon by daily intercourse, by degrees she became 
more complaisant to the stranger, and soon enthralled his 
heart by a closer tie. While the careful Guard is here 
passing his nights, a body is missed from one of the crosses. 
The Soldier in his alarm relates to the Woman what has 
happened ; but the chaste Matron replies : " You have no 
grounds for fear ;" and gives up the body of her Husband 
to be fastened to the cross, that he may not undergo punish- 
ment for his nedi^ence. 

Thus did profligacy usurp the place of honour. 



Fable XY. 

THE RICH SUITOR AND THE POOR ONE. 

Fortune sometimes favours Men beyond their hopes and 
expectations. 

Two Youths were courting a Maiden at the same time ; the 
Rich man got the better of the birth and good looks of the 
Poor one. When the appointed day for the nuptials had 
arrived, the woe-begone Lover, because he could not endure 
his grief, betook himself to some gardens near at hand; a 
little beyond which, the splendid villa of the Rich man was 
about to receive the Maiden from her mother's bosom, as 
his house in the city seemed not to be roomy enough. The 
marriage procession is arranged, a great crowd flocks to the 
scene, and Hymenseus gives the marriage torch. Now an 
Ass, which used to gain a living for the Poor man, was 
standing at the threshold of a gate ; and it so happens the 
maidens lead him along, that the fatigues of the way may not 
hurt the tender feet of the Bride. On a sudden, by the 
pity of Yenus, the heavens are swept by winds, the crash 
of thunder resounds through the firmament, and brings on 
a rough night with heavy rain; light is withdrawn from 
their eyes, and at the same moment a storm of hail, 
spreading in all directions, beats upon them, frightening and 



Fable XVI. the new fables of ph.edrus. 445 

scattering them on all sides, compelling each to seek safety 
for himself in flight. The Ass runs under the well-known 
roof close at hand, and with a loud voice gives notice of his 
presence. The servants run out of doors, behold with 
admiration the beautiful Maiden, and then go and tell their 
master. He, seated at table with a few companions, was 
consoling Iris passion with repeated draughts. When the 
news was brought him, exulting with delight, loth Bacchus 
and Yenus exhorting him, he celebrated his joyous nuptials 
amid the applauses of his comrades. The bride's parents 
sought their daughter through the crier, while the intended 
Husband grieved at the loss of his Wife. After what had 
taken place became known to the public, all agreed in 
approving of the favour shown by the Gods of heaven. 



Fable XVI. 
^ESOP AND HIS MISTEESS. 

Sow injurious it often is to tell the Truth. 

^Esop being in the service of an Ugly Woman, who 
wasted the whole day in painting herself up, and used fine 
clothes, pearls, gold, and silver, yet found no one who would 
touch her with a finger : " May I say a few words?" said 
he. " Say on," she replied. (i Tlien I think," said he, " that 
you will effect anything you wish, if you lay aside your 
ornaments." u Do I then seem to you so much preferable 
by myself?" said she. "Why, no; if you don't make pre- 
sents, your bed will enjoy its repose." "But your sides," 
she replied, " shan't enjoy their repose;" 1 and ordered the 
talkative Slave to be flogged. Shortly after a thief took 
away a silver bracelet. When the Woman was told that 
it could not be found, full of fury she summoned all her 
slaves, and threatened them with a severe flogging if they did 
not tell the truth. " Threaten others," said JEsop, " indeed 
you won't trick me, mistress; I was lately beaten with the 
whip because I told the truth." 

1 Shan't enjoy their repose) — Ver. 9. The play upon the word 
" cessabo," seems redolent of the wit of the middle ages, and not of 
the days of Phsedrus. 



446 the is'ew fables of pbledrus. Fable XVIT 

Fable XVII 
A COCK CARRIED IN A LITTER BY CATS. 

An extreme feeling of Security often leads Men into Danger. 

A Cock had some Cats to carry him in his litter : a Fox 
on seeing him borne along in this pompous manner, said: 
" I advise you to be on your guard against treachery, for 
if you were to examine the countenances of those creatures, 
you would pronounce that they are carrying a booty, not a 
burden." As soon as the savage brotherhood 4 began to be 
hungry, they tore their Master to pieces, and went shares in 
the proceeds of their guilt. 

Fable XYIII. 

THE SOW BRINGING FORTH, AND THE WOLF. 

We must first make trial of a Man before we entrust 
ourselves to him* 

A Sow was lying and groaning, her travail coming on ; 
a Wolf came running to her aid, and. offering his assistance, 
said that he could perform the duties of midwife. She, how- 
ever, understanding the treachery of the wicked animal, 
rejected the suspicious services of the evil-doer, and said: 
" If you keep at a greater distance it is enough." 

But had she entrusted herself to the perfidious Wolf, 
she would have had just as much pain to cry for, and her 
death into the bargain. 

1 Savage brotherhood) — Ver. 6. * Societas." The brotherhood of 
litter-carriers, perhaps four or six in number. 



Table XX the xew fables of ph-edeus. 417 

Fable XIX. 
THE RUNAWAY SLAVE AND ^ESOP. 

There is no necessity to add evil to evil. 

A Slave, when mnning away from a Master of severe dis- 
position, met .ZEsop, to whom he was known as a neighbour : 
"Why are you in such a hurry?" said JEsop. "Til tell 
you candidly, father," said the other, " for you are worthy 
to be called by that name, as our sorrows are safely en- 
trusted to you. Stripes are in superabundance; victuals 
fail : every now and then I am sent to the farm as a 
slave to the rustics there: if he dines at home I am kept 
standing by him all night, or if he is invited out, I remain 
until daylight in the street. I have fairly earned my liberty; 
but with grey hairs I am still a slave. If I were conscious 
to myself of any fault, I should bear this patiently: I 
never have had a bellyful, and, unhappy that I am, I have 
to put up with a severe master besides. For these reasons, 
and for others which it would take too long to recount, I 
have determined to go wherever my feet may carry me." 
a Listen then," said iEsop ; " When you have committed 
no fault, you suffer these inconveniences as you say : what if 
you had offended ? What do you suppose you would then 
have had to suffer?" 

By such advice he was prevented from running away. 



Fable XX. 
THE CHARIOT-HORSE SOLD FOR THE MILL. 

Whatever happens, we must hear it ivithecpiianimitij. 

A certain Man withdrew from his chariot a Horse, en- 
nobled by many victories, and sold him for the mill. As 
he was being led out of doors from the mill-stones to water, 
he saw his fellows going towards the Circus, to celebrate the 
joyous contests at the games. With tears starting forth, he 



448 THE NEW FABLES OF PH^DRUS. Fable XXL 

said, " Go on and be happy ; celebrate without me the festive 
day in the race; at the place to which the accursed hand of 
the thief has dragged me ; will I lament my sad fate." 



Fable XXI. 
THE HUNGRY BEAR. 

Hunger sharpens the wits. 

If at any time sustenance is wanting to the Bear in the 
woods, he runs to the rocky shore, and, grasping a rock, 
gradually lets down his shaggy thighs into the water; and 
as soon as the Crabs have stuck to the long hair, betaking 
himself to shore, the crafty fellow shakes off his sea-spoil, 
and enjoys the food that he has collected in every quarter. 
Thus even in Fools does hunger sharpen the wits. 



Fable XXII. 
THE TRAVELLER AND THE RAVEN. 

Men are very frequently imposed upon hy words. 

A Man while going through the fields along his solitary 
path, heard the word " Hail !" whereat he stopped for a 
moment, but seeing no one, went on his way. Again the 
same sound saluted him from a hidden spot ; encouraged 
by the hospitable voice, he stopped short, that whoever it 
was might receive the like civility. When, looking all about, 
he had remained long in perplexity, and had lost the time in 
which he might have walked some miles, a Raven showed 
himself, and hovering above him, continually repeated "Hail!" 
Then, perceiving that he had been deluded : u Perdition seize 
you," said he, " most mischievous bird, to have thus delayed 
me when I was in such a hurry." 

1 If at any time) — Yer. 1. This is not a Fable; it is merely an 
anecdote in natural history, and one not very unlikely to have been true. 



Fable XXV. the new fables of plledrus. 449 

Fable XXIII. 
THE SHEPHERD AND THE SHE-GOAT. 

Nothing is secret which shall not be made manifest. 1 

A Shepherd had broken 2 the horn of a She-Goat with his 
staff, and began to entreat her not to betray him to his 
Master. "Although unjustly injured/' said she, "still, I 
shall be silent; but the thing itself will proclaim your 
offence." 

Fable XXIV". 

THE SERPENT AND THE LIZARD. 

When the Lion's skin fails, the Fox's must be employed ; that 
is to say, when strength fails, we must employ craftiness. 

A Serpent chanced to catch a Lizard by the tail ; but when 
she tried to devour it with open throat, it snatched up a 
little twig that lay close at hand, and, holding it transversely 
with pertinacious bite, checked the greedy jaws, agape to 
devour it, by this cleverly contrived impediment. So the 
Serpent dropped the prey from her mouth unenjoyed. 

Fable XXY. 

THE CROW AND THE SHEEP. 

Many are in the habit of injuring the weak and cringing to 

the powerful. 

An pestilent Crow had taken her seat upon a Sheep ; which 
after carrying her a long time on her back and much against 

1 Be made manifest) — Ver. 1. This moral is couched in the same 
words as St. Luke, viii. 17: " For nothing is secret which shall not 
he made manifest." 

2 A Shepherd had broken) — Ver. 1. As Adry remarks, this Fable 
more closely resembles the brevity and elegance of Phsedrus. 

2g 



450 THE NEW FABLES OF PHiEDRUS. Fable XXVI- 

her inclination, remarked : " If yon had done thns to a Dog 
with his sharp teeth, you would have suffered for it. To this 
the rascally Croiv replied: "I despise the defenceless, and 
I yield to the powerful \ I know whom to vex, and whom 
to natter craftily; by these means I put off my old age for 
years." 

Fable XXYI. 
THE SERVANT AND THE MASTER. 

There is no curse more severe than a had conscience. 

A Servant having been guilty 1 of a secret offence in 
debauching the wife of his master, on the latter coming to 
know of it, he said, in the presence of those standing by : 
" Are you quite pleased with yourself? For, when you ought 
not, you do please yourself ; but not with impunity, for when 
you ought to be pleased, you cannot be." 



Fable XXVII. 
THE HARE AND THE HERDSMAN. 

Many are kind in words, faithless at heart. 

A Hare was flying from the Huntsman with speedy foot, 
and being seen by a Herdsman, as she was creeping into a 
thicket : " By the Gods of heaven, I beg of you/' said she, 
" and by all your hopes, do not betray me, Herdsman ; I 
have never done any injury to this field. 2 " Don't be afraid," 

1 Having been guilty) — Yer. 5. Chambry, one of the French Editors, 
omits this, as unworthy of Pheedrus, and A dry pronounces it unintel- 
ligible. The meaning of this, which is Jannelli's version, seems to be : 
"When you ought not to please yourself, you do please yourself, in 
committing the crime ; but the consequence is that, afterwards, when 
you ought to feel pleased, in that you have gratified your desires, you 
cannot, in consequence of your guilty conscience." It is so muti- 
lated, however, that Cassitti, Jannelli, and other Editors give entirely 
different versions. 

2 Injury to this field)— Yer. 4. The Hare is more an enemy to the 
flowers in gardens than to the fields. It was probably for this reason 
that the Romans sacrificed this animal to the Goddess Flora. 



Fable XXIX. the new fables of ph^edrus. 451 

the Countryman replied, " remain concealed without appre- 
hension." And now the Huntsman coming up, enquired: 
"Pray, Herdsman, has a Hare come this way?" "She did 
come, but went off that way to the left;" he answered, 
winking and nodding to the right. The Huntsman in his 
haste did not understand him, and hurried out of sight. 
Then said the Herdsman : " Are you not glad that I 
concealed you?" "I don't deny," said she, "that to your 
tongue I owe most sincere thanks, and I return them, but 
I wish you may be deprived of your perfidious eyes." 



Fable XXYIII. 
THE YOUNG MAN AND THE COURTESAN. 

Many tilings are pleasing which still are not to our advantage. 

While a perfidious Courtesan was fawning upon a Youth, 
and he, though wronged ~by her many a time and oft, still 
showed himself indulgent to the Woman, the faithless 
Creature thus addressed him : " Though many contend for 
me with their gifts, still do I esteem you the most." The 
Youth, recollecting how many times he had been deceived, 
replied : * Gladly, my love, do I hear these words ; nob 
because you are constant, but because you administer to 
.my pleasures." 

Fable XXIX. 

THE BEAYEE. 

Mam/ would escape, if for the sake of safety they would 
disregard their comforts. 

The Beaver (to which the talkative Greeks have given the 
name of Castor, thus bestowing upon an animal the name 
of a God 1 — they who boast of the abundance of their epi- 

1 Name of a God) — Yer. 3. This pun upon the resesemblance of 
<l Castor," the name of the demigod, to ' ' Castor/" " a beaver," seems to 
be a puerile pun ; and the remark upon the limited " copia verborum' , 

2g2 



452 THE NEW FABLES OF PH^DRUS. Fable XXX. 

thets) when can no longerescape the dogs, is said to bite off his 
testicles, because he is aware that it is for them he is sought ; 
a thing which I would not deny being done through an 
instinct granted by the Gods ; for as soon as the Huntsman 
has found the drug, he ceases his pursuit, and calls off the 
dogs. 

If men could manage, so as to be ready to part with what 
they own, in order to live in safety for the future, there 
would be no one to devise stratagems to the detriment 
of the naked body. 



Fable XXX. 
THE BUTTERFLY AND THE WASP. 

Not past hut present Fortune must he regarded. 

A Butterfly 1 seeing a Wasp flying by : " Oh, sad is our lot,.' 7 
said she, " derived from the depths of hell, from the recesses 
of which we have received our existence. I, eloquent in 
peace, brave in battle, most skilled in every art, whatever I 
once was, behold, light and rotten, and mere ashes do I fly. 2 
You, who were a Mule 3 with panniers, hurt whomsoever you 

of the Greeks, seems more likely to proceed from the Archbishop of 
Sipontum than from Phaedrus, who was evidently proud of his Grecian 
origin. 

1 A Butterfly) — Yer. 1. This Fable is in a sadly mutilated state, and 
critics are at a loss to say, with any certainty, what is meant by it. 
Whether the supposed word in 1. 2, " barathris," (if really the correct 
reading), means the depths of hell, or the inner folds of the leaves in 
which the Butterfly is enveloped in the chrysalis state, or whether it 
means something else, will probably always remain a matter of doubt. 
However, the Fable seems to allude to the prevalent idea, that the soul, 
when disengaged from the body, took the form of a butterfly. Indeed 
the Greeks called both the soul and a butterfly by the name of ^vxn- 
There are six or seven different versions of the first five lines. 

2 Ashes do I fly) — Yer. 6. It is just possible that this may allude to 
the soul being disengaged from the corruption of the body. 

2 Who were a Mule) — Yer. 7. She would seem here to allude to the 
doctrine of the transmigration of souls. It may possibly have been a 
notion, that as the human soul took the form of a Butterfly, the souls 
of animals appeared in the shapes of Wasps and Flies. 



Fable XXXII. the new fables of phjedxus. 463 

choose, by fixing your sting in him. The Wasp, too, uttered 
these words, well suited to her disposition : u Consider not 
what we were, but what we now are." 



Fable XXXI. 
THE GROUND-SWALLOW AXD THE FOX. 

Confidence is not to he placed in tlie v:ic~ked. 

A Bird which the Rustics call a Ground-Swallow (ter- 
raneold) } because it makes its nest in the ground, chanced to 
meet a wicked Fox, on seeing whom she soared aloft on 
her wings. " Save you," said the other ; u why, pray, do you 
fly from me, as though I had not abundance of food in the 
meadows, — crickets, beetles, and plenty of locusts. You 
have nothing to fear, I beg to assure you; I love you 
clearly for your quiet ways, and your harmless life. The 
Bird replied : " You speak very fairly, indeed ; however, I 
am not near you, but up in the air; I shall therefore pro- 
ceed, and that is the way in which I trust my life to you." 



Fable XXXII. 
THE EPILOGUE. 1 

Oftlwse who read this loolc. 

Whatever my Muse has here written in sportive mood, 
both malice and worth equally join in praising; but the 
latter with candour, while the other is secretly annoyed. 

1 The Epilogue) — This appears in reality to be only the Fragment 
of an Epilogue. 



^SOPIAN FABLES. 1 

THE AUTHORS OF WHICH ARE NOT KJSTOWK 



Fable I. 
THE SICK KITE. 



A Kite having been sick for many months, and seeing- 
now there was no longer any hope of his recovery, asked 
his Mother to go round the sacred places, and make the 
most earnest vows for his recovery. u I will do so, my Son," 
said she, "but I am greatly afraid I shall obtain no help; 
but you, who have polluted every temple and every altar 
with your ravages, sparing no sacrificial food, what is it you 
would now have me ask ?" 



Fable II. 
THE HARES TIRED OF LIFE. 

He who cannot endure his own misfortune, let him look 
at others, and learn patience. 

On one occasion, the Hares being scared in the woods by a, 
great noise, cried out, that, on account of their continued 
alarms, they would end their lives. So they repaired to a* 
certain pond, into which, in their despondency, they were 

1 jEsopian Fables)— These iEsopian Fables appear much more 
worthy of the genius of Phaedrus than the preceding ones, which have 
been attributed to him by the Italian Editors. The name of the author 
or authors of these is unknown ; but from the internal evidence, it is 
not improbable that some may have been composed by Phaedrus. 



Fable IV. ^sopian fables. 455 

going to throw themselves. Alarmed at their approach, some 
Frogs fled distractedly into the green sedge. " Oh !" says 
one of the hares, " there are others too whom fear of mis- 
fortune torments. Endure existence as others do." 



Fable III. 
JUPITER AND THE FOX. 

No fortune conceals baseness of nature. 

Jupiter having changed a Fox into a human shape, while 
she was sitting as a Mistress on a royal throne, she saw a, 
beetle creeping out of a corner, and sprang nimbly towards 
the well-known prey. The Gods of heaven smiled; the 
Great Father was ashamed, and expelled the Concubine, 
repudiated and disgraced, addressing her in these words : 
" Live on in the manner that you deserve, you ; who cannot 
make a worthy use of my kindness." 

i 

Fable IV. 
THE LION AND THE MOUSE. 

This Fable teaches that no one should hurt those of more 
humble condition. 

While a Lion was asleep in a wood, where some Field- 
Mice were sporting about, one of them by chance leaped 
upon the Lion as he lay. The Lion awoke and seized the 
wretched creature with a sudden spring. The captive im- 
plored pardon and suppliant ly confessed his crime, a sin of 
imprudence. The Monarch, not deeming it a glorious thing 
to exact vengeance for this, pardoned him and let him go. 
A few days after, the Lion, while roaming by night, fell into 
a trap. When he perceived that he was caught in the snare, 
he began to roar with his loudest voice. At this tremendous 
noise the Mouse instantly ran to his assistance, and ex- 
claimed : " You have no need to fear; I will make an adequate 
return for your great kindness." Immediately he began to 
survey all the knots and the fastenings of the knots ; and 



456 ^sopian fables. Fable V. 

gnawing the strings after he had examined them, loosened 
the snare. Thus did the Mouse restore the captured Lion 
to the woods. 



Fable V. 
THE MAN AND THE TREES. 

Those perish, who give assistance to their foes. 

A certain Man, having made an axe, besought the Trees to 
afford him a handle from their wood that would prove firm : 
they all desired that a piece of Olive-tree should be given. 
He accepted the offer, and, fitting on the handle, set to 
work with the axe to hew down the huge trunks. "While 
he was selecting such as he thought fit, the Oak is reported 
thus to have said to the Ash: "We richly deserve to be 
cut down." 



Fable VI. 
THE MOUSE AND THE FBOG. 

A Mouse, in order that he might pass over a river with 
greater ease, sought the aid of a Frog. She tied the fore leg 
of the Mouse to her hinder thigh. Hardly had they swum 
to the middle of the river, when the Frog dived suddenly, 
trying to reach the bottom, that she might perfidiously 
deprive the Mouse of life. While he struggled with all his 
might not to sink, a Kite that was fiying near at hand, 
beheld the prey, and seizing the floundering Mouse in his 
talons, at the same time bore off the Frog that was fastened 
to him. 

Thus do men often perish while meditating the destruction 
of others. 

Fable VII. 

THE TWO COCKS AND THE HAWK. 

A Cock who had often fought with another Cock, and been 
beaten, requested a Hawk to act as umpire in the contest. 



Table IX. - ^ssopian fables. 457 

The latter conceived hopes, if both should come, of devour- 
ing him who should first present himself. Shortly after, 
when he saw that they had come to plead their cause, he 
seized the one who first brought his case into court. The 
victim clamorously exclaimed : " 'Tis not I that should be 
punished, but the one who took to flight ;" the Bird replied: 
" Do not suppose that you can this day escape my talons ; 
it is just that you should now yourself endure the treacheries 
you were planning for another." 1 

He who often cogitates upon the death of others, little 
knows what sad .Fate he may be preparing for himself. 



Fable VIII. 

THE SNAIL AND THE APE. 

• A Snail, smitten with admiration of a Mirror which she 
had found, began to climb its shining face, and lick it, fancy- 
ing she could confer no greater favour upon it, than to 
stain its brightness with her slime. An Ape, when he 
saw the Mirror thus defiled, remarked : " He who allows 
himself to be trodden by such beings, deserves to suffer such 
a disgrace." 

This Fable is written for those Women who unite them- 
selves to ignorant and foolish Men. 



Fable IX. 

THE CITY MOUSE AND COUNTRY MOUSE. 

A City Mouse being once entertained at the table of a 
Country one, dined on humble acorns in a hole. After- 
wards he prevailed upon the Countryman by his entreaties 
to enter the city and a cellar that abounded with the 
choicest things. Here, while they were enjoying remnants 
of various kinds, the door is thrown open, and in comes the 
Butler; the Mice, terrified at the noise, fly in different direc- 

1 Planning for another) — Yer. 10. The nature of the reason assigned 
by the Hawk is not very clear. Perhaps the writer did not care that 
he should give even so much as a specious reason. 



458 .esopian fables. • Fable X. 

tions, and the City one easily hides himself in his well-known 
holes; while the unfortunate Rustic, all trepidation in that 
strange house, and dreading death, runs to-and-fro along the 
walls. When theButler had taken what he wanted, and had 
shut the door, the City Mouse bade the Country one again 
to take courage. The latter, still in a state of perturbation, 
replied : " I hardly can take any food for fear. Do you 
think he will come ?" — " Why are you in such a fright ?" 
said the City one; "come, let us enjoy dainties which you 
may seek in vain in the country." The Countryman replied : 
"You, who don't know what it is to fear, will enjoy all 
these things ; but, free from care and at liberty, may acorns 
be my food I" 

'Tis better to live secure in poverty, than to be consumed 
by the cares attendant upon riches. 

Fable X. 

THE ASS FAWNING UPON HIS MASTER. 

An Ass, seeing the Dog fawn upon his master, and how 
he was crammed at his table each day, and had bits thrown 
to him in abundance by the Servants, thus remarked: "If 
the Master and the Servants are so very fond of a most filthy 
Dog, what must it be with me, if I should pay him similar 
attentions, who am much better than this Dog, and useful 
and praiseworthy in many respects ; who am supported by 
the pure streams of undefiled water, and never in the habit 
of feeding upon nasty food ? Surely I am more worthy 
than a whelp to enjoy a happy life, and to obtain the highest 
honor." While the Ass is thus soliloquising, he sees his 
Master enter the stable; so running up to him in haste 
and braying aloud, he leaps upon him, claps both feet on 
his shoulders, begins to lick his face; and tearing his clothes 
with his dirty hoofs, he fatigues his Master with his heavy 
weight, as he stupidly fawns upon him. At their Master's 
outcry the Servants run to the spot, and seizing everywhere 
such sticks and stones as come in their way, they punish the 
braying least, and knocking him off his Master's body, soon 
send him back, half-dead to the manger, with sore limbs and 
battered rump. 



Fable XII. ^sopian fables. 459 

This Fable teaches that a fool is not to thrust himself upon 
those who do not want him, or affect to perform the part of 
one superior to him. 

Fable XL 

THE CRANE, THE CROW, AND THE 
COUNTRYMAN. 

A Crane and a Crow had made a league on oath, that the 
Crane should protect the Crow against the Birds, and that 
the Crow should foretell the future, so that the Crane might 
be on her guard. After this, on their frequently flying 
into the fields of a certain Countryman, and tearing up by 
the roots what had been sown, the owner of the field saw it, 
and being vexed, cried out : " Give me a stone, Boy, that I 
may hit the Crane." When the Crow heard this, at once? 
she warned the Crane, who took all due precaution. On 
another day, too, the Crow hearing him ask for a stone, 
again warned the Crane carefully to avoid the danger. The 
Countryman, suspecting that the divining Bird heard his- 
commands, said to the Boy : " If I say, give me a cake, do 
you secretly band me a stone." The Crane came again ; he 
bade the Boy give him a cake, but the Boy gave him a stone, 
with which he hit the Crane, and broke her legs. The 
Crane, on being wounded, said : " Prophetic Crow, where 
now are your auspices ? Why did you not hasten to warn 
your companion, as you swore you would, that no such evil 
might befall me ?" The Crow made answer : " It is not my 
art that deserves to be blamed \ but the purposes of 
double-tongued people are so deceiving, who say one thing 
and do another." 

Those who impose upon the inexperienced by deceitful 
promises, fail not to cajole them by-and-bye with pretended 
reasons. 



Fable XII. 

THE BIRDS AND THE SWALLOW. 

The Birds having assembled in one spot, saw a Man sowing 
flax in a field. When the Swallow found that they thought 



460 jesopian fables. Fable XIII. 

nothing at all of this, she is reported to have called them 
together, and thus addressed them : " Danger awaits us all 
from this, if the seed should come to maturity." The Birds 
laughed at her. When the crop, however, sprang up, the 
Swallow again remarked : " Our destruction is impending ; 
come, let us root up the noxious blades, lest, if they shortly 
grow up, nets may be made thereof, and we may be taken 
by the contrivances of man." The Birds persist in laughing 
at the words of the Swallow, and foolishly despise this most 
prudent advice. But she, in her caution, at once betook herself 
to Man, that she might suspend her nest in safety under 
his rafters. The Birds, however, who had disregarded her 
wholesome advice, being caught in nets made of the flax, 
came to an untimely end. 



Fable XIII. 
THE PABTKIDGE AND THE FOX. 

Once on a time a Partridge was sitting in a lofty tree. A 
Fox came up, and began thus to speak : " O Partridge, 
how beautiful is your aspect! Your beak transcends the 
coral ; your thighs the brightness of purple. And then, if 
you were to sleep, how much more beauteous you would be. 
As soon as the silly Bird had closed her eyes, that instant 
the Fox seized the credulous thing. Suppliantly she uttered 
these words, mingled with loud cries : " Fox, I beseech 
you, by the graceful dexterity of your exquisite skill, utter 
my name as before, and then you shall devour me." The 
Fox, willing to speak, opened his mouth, and so the Partridge 
escaped destruction. Then said the deluded Fox : " What 
need was there for me to speak ?" The Partridge retorted : 
"And what necessity was there for me to sleep, when my 
hour for sleep had not come ?" 

This is for those who speak when there is no occasion, and 
who sleep when it is requisite to be on the watch. 



Fable XV. ^sopian fables. ■ 461 

Fable XIV. 

THE ASS, THE OX, AND THE BIBDS. 

An Ass and an Ox, fastened to the same yoke, vrere drawing 
a waggon. While the Ox was pulling with all his might he 
broke his horn. The Ass swears that he experiences no help 
whatever from his weak companion. Exerting himself ill 
the labour, the Ox breaks his other horn, and at length falls 
dead upon the ground. Presently, the Herdsman loads the 
Ass with the flesh of the Ox, and he breaks down amid a 
thousand blows, and stretched in the middle of the road, 
expires. The Birds flying to the prey, exclaim : " If you 
had shown yourself compassionate to the Ox when he entreated 
you, you would not have been food for us through your 
untimely death." 

Fable XY. 

THE LION AND THE SHEPHERD. 

A Lion, 1 while wandering in a wood, trod on a thorn, and 
soon after came up, wagging his tail, to a Shepherd : " Don't 
be alarmed," said he, " I suppliantly entreat your aid ; I am 
not in search for prey." Lifting up the wounded foot, the 
Man places it in his lap, and, taking out the thorn, relieves 
the patient's severe pain : whereupon the Lion returns to 
the woods. Some time after, the Shepherd (being accused 
on a false charge) is condemned, and is ordered to be exposed 
to ravening Beasts at the ensuing games. While the Beasts, 
on being let out, 2 are roaming to-and-fro, the Lion recognizes 
the Man who effected the cure, and again raising his foot, 
places it in the Shepherd's lap. The King, as soon as he 
aware of this, immediately restored the Lion to the woods, 
and the Shepherd to his friends. 

1 A Lion)—Yev. 1. This story is also told by Seneca — De Beneficiis r 
B. II. c. 19, and by Aulus Gellius, B. III. e. 14. 

2 The Beasts, on being let out) — Yer. 10. The beasts were sent forth 
from "cavese," or "cages," into the area of the Circus or Amphitheatre. 



4:62 • ^ISOPIAN fables. Fable XYI. 

Fable XYI. 
THE GNAT AND THE BULL. 

A Gnat having challenged a Bull to a trial of strength, all 
the People came to see the combat. Then said the Gnat : 
" 'Tis enough that you have come to meet me in combat ; 
for though little in my own idea, I am great in your judg- 
ment/' and so saying, he took himself off on light wing through 
the air, and duped the multitude, and eluded the threats of 
the Bull. Now if the Bull had kept in mind his strength of 
neck, and had contemned an ignoble foe, the vapouring of 
the trifler would have been all in vain. 

He loses character who puts himself on a level with the 
undeserving. 

Fable XYII. 
THE HOBSE AND THE ASS. 

A Steed, swelling with pride beneath his trappings, met an 
Ass, and because the latter, wearied with his load, made 
room very slowly: " Hardly," said the Horse, "can I restrain 
myself from kicking you severely." The Ass held his peace, 
only appealing with his groans to the Gods. The Horse in 
a short space of time, broken- winded with running, is sent 
to the farm. There the Ass espying him laden with dung, 
thus jeered him: "Where are your former trappings, vain 
boaster, who have now fallen into the misery which you 
treated with such contempt ?" 

Let not the fortunate man, unmindful of the uncertainty 
of fortune, despise the lowly one, seeing that he knows not 
what he may come to himself. 



Table XIX. ^sopian fables. 463 

Fable XVIII. 
THE BIRDS, THE BEASTS, AND THE BAT. 

The Birds were at war with the Beasts, and the conquerors 
were defeated in their turn \ but the Bat, fearing the 
doubtful issue of tlie strife, always betook himself to those 
whom he saw victorious. When they had returned to their 
former state of peace, the fraud was apparent to both sides ; 
convicted therefore of a crime so disgraceful, and flying from 
the light, he thenceforth hid himself in deep darkness, always 
flying alone by night. 

Whoever offers himself for sale to both sides ; will live a 
life of disgrace, hateful to them both. 



Eable XIX. 

THE NIGHTINGALE, THE HAWK, AND THE 

FOWLER. 

While a Hawk was sitting in a Nightingale's nest, on the 
watch for a Hare, he found there some young ones. The 
Mother, alarmed at the danger of her offspring, flew up, and 
suppliantly entreated him to spare her young ones. " I will 
do what you wish," he replied, " if you will sing me a tuneful 
song with a clear voice." On this, much as her heart 
failed her, still, through fear, she obeyed, and being com- 
pelled, full of grief she sang. The Hawk, who had seized 
the prey, then said : " You have not sung your best ;" and, 
seizing one of the young ones with his claws, began to devour 
it. A Fowler approaches from another direction, and 
stealthily extending his reed, 1 touches the perfidious creature 
with bird-lime, and drags him to the ground. 

Whoever lays crafty stratagems for others, ought to be- 
ware that he himself be not entrapped by cunning. 

1 Extending his reed) — Yer. 13. From this it would appear, that 
fowlers stood behind trees, and used reeds tipped with birdlime, for 
the purpose of taking birds. 



464 .esopian fables. Fable XX. 

Fable XX. 
THE WOLF, THE FOX, AND THE SHEPHEBD. 

A Wolf, in the course of time, had collected a store in 
his den, that he might have food, which he might enjoy 
at his ease for many months. A Fox, on learning this, went 
to the Wolf's den, and said with tremulous voice : " Is all 
right, brother? For not having seen you on the look-out 
for prey in your woods, life has been saddened every day." 
The Wolf, when he perceived the envy of his rival, replied: 
"You have not come hither from any anxiety on my account, 
but that you may get a share. I know what is your deceit- 
ful aim." The Fox enraged, comes to a Shepherd, and says : 
" Shepherd, will you return me thanks, if to-day I deliver 
up to you the enemy of your flock, so that you need have 
no more anxiety ?" The Shepherd replied: " I will serve 
you, and will with pleasure give you anything you like." 
She points out the Wolf's den to the Shepherd, who shuts 
him in, despatches him immediately with a spear, and gladly 
gratifies his rival with the property of another. When, 
however, the Fox had fallen into the Hunter's hands, being 
caught and mangled by the Dogs, she said : " Hardly have 
I done an injury to another, ere I am now punished 
myself? 

Whoever ventures to injure another, ought to beware 
lest a greater evil befall himself. 



Fable XXI. 

THE SHEEP AND THE WOLVES. 

When the Sheep and the Wolves 1 engaged in battle, the 
former, safe under the protection of the dogs, were victo- 
rious. The Wolves sent ambassadors, and demanded a peace, 

1 The Sheep and the Wolves) — Yer. 1. Demosthenes is said to have 
related this Fahle to the Athenians, when dissuading them from sur- 
rendering the Orators to Alexander. 



Fable XXIII. ^sopiak fables. 4:65 

ratified on oath, on these terms ; that the Sheep should give 
Up the Dogs, and receive as hostages the whelps of the 
Wolves. The Sheep, hoping that lasting concord would be 
thus secured, did as the Wolves demanded. Shortly after, 
when the whelps began to howl, the Wolves, alleging as a 
pretext, that their young ones were being murdered, and that 
the peace had been broken by the Sheep, made a simultaneous 
rush on every side, and attacked the latter thus deprived of 
protectors; and so a late repentance condemned their folly 
in putting faith in their enemies. 

If a person gives up to others the safeguard under which 
he has previously lived in security, he will afterwards wish 
it back, but in vain. 

Fable XXII. 
THE APE AND THE FOX. 

An Ape asked a Fox to spare him some part of her exceed- 
ing length of tail, with which he might be enabled to cover 
his most unseemly hinder parts. "For of what use," said he, 
"is a tail of such extraordinary length ? For what pur- 
pose do you drag such a vast weight along the ground ? " 
The Fox answered : " Even if it were longer, and much 
bulkier, I would rather drag it along the ground and 
through mud and thorns, than give you a part; that you 
might not appear more comely through what covers me." 

Greedy and rich man, this Fable has a lesson for you, who, 
though you have a superabundance, still give nothing to the 
poor. 

Fable XXIII. 

: THE WOLF, THE SHEPHERD, AND THE 
HUNTSMAN. 

A Wolf, flying from the Huntsman's close pursuit, was 
seen by a Shepherd, icho noticed which way he fled, and in 
what spot he concealed himself. " Herdsman," said the 
terrified fugitive, "by all your hopes, do not, I do adjure 
you by the great Gods, betray an innocent being, who has 
done you no injur v." 

2 h 



466 jesopian fables. Fable XXIY. 

" Don't fear," the Shepherd replied; "111 point in another 
direction." Soon after, the Huntsman comes up in haste : 
" Shepherd, have you not seen a Wolf come this way ? Which 
way did he run?" The Shepherd replied, in a loud voice: 
" He certainly did come, but he fled to the left/' but 
he secretly motioned with his eyes towards the right. 
The other did not understand him, and went on in haste. 
Then said the Shepherd to the Wolf: "What thanks will you 
give me for having concealed you?" " To your tonone, I 
give especial ones," said the Wolf, " but on your deceitful 
eyes I pray that the darkness of eternal night may fall." 

He who, courteous in his words, conceals deceit in his 
heart, may understand that he is himself described in this 
Fable. 



Fable XXIV. 

THE TETJTHFUL MAST, THE LIAE, AJSTD 
THE APES. 

A Liar and a Truthful Man, while travelling together, 
chanced to come into the land of the Apes. One of the 
number, who had made himself King, seeing them, ordered 
them to be detained, that he might learn what men said of 
him, and at the same time he ordered all the Apes to stand 
in lengthened array on the right and left; and that a throne 
should be placed for himself, as he had formerly seen was the 
practice with the Kings among men. After this he questions 
the men so ordered to be brought before him : " What 
do you think of me, strangers ? " " You seem to be a most 
mighty King," the Liar replied. " What of these whom you 
see now about me ? " " These are ministers, 1 these are 
lieutenants, and leaders of troops." The Ape thus lyingly 
praised, together with his crew, orders a present to be 
given to the flatterer. On this the Truth-teller remarked to 
nimself: "If so great the reward for lying, with what gifts 
shall I not be presented, if, according to my custom, I tell the 
truth ?" The Ape then turns to the Truthful Man : " And 

1 Your ministers)— Ver. 13. "Comites" here seems to mean "minis- 
ters," in the sense in which the word was used in the times of the later 
Roman emperors. 



Fable XX VI. jESOPiajs fables. 467 

what do you think of me and those whom you see standing 
before me ? " He made answer : " You are a genuine Ape, 
and all these are Apes, who are like you." The King, 
enraged, ordered him to be torn with teeth and claws, 
because he had told the truth. 

A courtly lie is praised by the wicked; plain-spoken truth 
brings destruction on the good. 



Fable XXV. f 
THE MAN AKD THE LIOK 

A Man was disputing with a Lion which was the stronger 
of the two, and while they were seeking evidence on the 
matter in dispute, they came at last to a sepulchre, on which 
tlie human disputant pointed out a Lion, depicted with his 
jaws rent asunder by a Man — a striking proof of superior 
strength. The Lion made answer : " This was painted by a 
human hand ; if Lions knew how to paint, you would see 
the man undermost. But I will give a more convincing 
proof of our valour." He accordingly led the Man to some 
games, 1 where, calling his attention to men slain in reality 
by Lions, he said: " There is no need of the testimony of 
pictures here ; real valour is shown by deeds." 

This Fable teaches that liars use colouring in vain, when 
a sure test is produced. 

Fable XXVI. 

THE STOEK, THE GOOSE, AND THE HAWK. 

A Stork, having come to a well-known pool, found a Goose 
diving frequently beneath the water, and enquired why she 
did so. The other replied : u This is our custom, and we find 
our food in the mud; and then, besides, we thus find safety, 
and escape the attack of the Hawk when he cames against 

1 Some games) — Yer. 9. " Spectaculum," or "venatio." These 
were exhibited by the wealthy Romans in the amphitheatre or circus, 
and on some occasions many hundred beasts were slain in one day. 
Of course, as here mentioned, their assailants would sometimes meet 
with an untimely end. 

2h2 



468 .^sopian fables. Fable XXVII. 

us." "I am much stronger than the Hawk," said the Stork; 
" if you choose to make an alliance with me, you will be 
able victoriously to deride him." The Goose believing her, 
and immediately accepting her aid, goes with her into the 
fields : forthwith comes the Hawk, and seizes the Goose in 
his remorseless claws and devours her, while the Stork flies 
off The Goose called out after her : " He who trusts him- 
self to so weak a protector, deserves to come to a still worse 
end." ■ 

Fable XXYII. 
THE SHEEP AND THE CEOW. 

A Crow, sitting at her ease upon a Sheep's back, pecked 
her with her beak. After she had done this for a long 
time, the Sheep, so patient under injury, remarked : "If you 
had offered this affront to the Dog, you could not have en- 
dured his barking." But the Crow thus ansivered the Sheep : 
" I never sit on the neck of one so strong, as I know whom 
I may provoke; my years having taught me cunning, I am 
civil to the robust, but insolent to the defenceless. Of such 
a nature have the Gods thought fit to create me." 

This Fable was written for those base persons who oppress 
the innocent, and fear to annoy the bold. 

FaSle XXVIII. 

THE ANT AND THE GRASSHOPPER 

In winter time, an Ant was dragging forth from her 
her hole, and drying, the grains which, in her foresight, 
she had collected during the summer. A Grasshopper, 
being hungry, begged her to give him something : the Ant 
replied: "What were you doing in summer?" The other 
said: " I had not leisure to think of the future : I was 
wandering through hedges and meadows, singing away." 
The Ant laughing, and carrying back the grains, said : 
" Very well, you who were singing away in the summer, 
ance in the winter." 
Let the sluggard always labour at the proper time, lest 
when he has nothing, he beg in vain. 



Table XXXI. ^sopian fables. 469 

Fable XXIX. 
THE HOKSE AND THE ASS. 

An Ass asked a Horse for a little barley. " With all my 
Heart," said he, "if I had more than I wanted, I would 
give you plenty, in accordance with my dignified position ; 
but bye-and-bye, as soon as I shall have come to my manger 
in the evening, I will give you a sackful of wheat." The 
Ass replied: "If you now deny me on a trifling occasion, 
what am I to suppose you will do on one of greater import- 
ance ?" 

They who, while making great promises, refuse small 
favours, show that they are very tenacious of giving. 

Fable XXX. 
THE OLD LION AND THE FOX. 

Worn with years, a Lion pretended illness. Many Beasts 
came for the purpose of visiting the sick King, whom at once 
he devoured. But a wary Fox stood at a distance before the 
den, saluting the King. On the Lion asking her why she did 
not come in : " Because," said she, " I see many foot-marks of 
those who have gone in, but none of those who came out." 

The dangers of others are generally of advantage to the 
wary. 

Fable XXXI. 

THE CA3IEL AND THE FLEA. 

A Flea, chancing to sit on the back of a Camel who was 
going along weighed down with heavy burdens, was quite 
delighted with himself, as he appeared to be so much higher. 
After they had made a long journey, they came together in 
the evening to the stable. The Flea immediately exclaimed, 
skipping lightly to the ground : tt See, I have got down 
directly, that I may not weary you any longer, so galled 
as you are." The Camel replied : "I thank you; but neither 



470 ^sopian fables. Fable XXXII. 

"when you were on me did I find myself oppressed by your 
weight, nor do I feel myself at all lightened now you have 
dismounted." 

He who, while he is of no standing, boasts to be of 
a lofty one, falls under contempt when he comes to be 
known. 

Fable XXXII. 
THE KID AND THE WOLF. 

A She-Goat, that she might keep her young one in safety, 
on going forth to feed, warned her heedless Kid not to open 
the door, because she knew that many wild beasts were 
prowling about the cattle stalls. When she was gone, 
there came a Wolf, imitating the voice of the dam, and 
ordered the door to be opened for him. When the Kid heard 
him, looking through a chink, he said to the Wolf: "I hear 
a sound like my Mother's voice, but you are a deceiver, 
and an enemy to me ; under my Mother's voice you are 
seeking to drink my blood, and stuff yourself with my flesh. 
Farewell." 

5 Tis greatly to the credit of children to be obedient to their 
parents. 

Fable XXXIII. 

THE POOE MAN AND THE SERPENT. 

In the house of a certain Poor Man, a Serpent was always 
in the habit of coming to his table, and being fed there plen- 
tifully upon the crumbs. Shortly after, the Man becoming 
rich, he began to be angry with the Serpent, and wounded him 
with an axe. After the lapse of some time he returned to 
his former poverty. When he saw that like the varying lot 
of the Serpent, his own fortunes also changed, he coax- 
ingly begged him to pardon the offence. Then said the 
Serpent to him : " You will repent of your wickedness 
until my wound is healed ; don't suppose, however, that 
I take you henceforth with implicit confidence to be my 
friend. Still, I could wish to be reconciled with you, if 
only I could never recall to mind the perfidious axe." 



Fable XXXIV. ^sopian fables. 471 

He deserves to be suspected, who has once done an injury; 
and an intimacy with him is always to be renewed with 
caution. 



Fable XXXIV. 
THE EAGLE AND THE KITE. 

An Eagle was sitting on a branch with a Kite, in sorrowful 
mood. u Why," said the Kite, " do I see you with such a 
melancholy air r" "I am looking out/' said she, " for a mate 
suited to myself, and cannot find one." " Take me/' said the 
Kite, " who am so much stronger than you." " Well, are you 
able to get a living by what you can cany away ?" " Many's 
the time that I have seized and carried off an ostrich in my 
talons." Induced by his words, the Eagle took him as her 
mate. A short time having passed after the nuptials, the 
Eagle said : " Go and carry off for me the booty you pro- 
mised me." Soaring aloft, the Kite brings back a field-mouse, 
most filthy, and stinking from long-contracted mouldiness. 
"Is this," said the Eagle, "the performance of your pro- 
mise ?" The Kite replied to her : " That I might contract 
a marriage with royalty, there is nothing I would not have 
pledged myself to do, although I knew that I was unable." 

Those who seek anxiously for partners of higher rank, 
painfully lament a deception that has united them to the 
worthless. 



THE FABLES OE PH.EDKUS, 

TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE 

By CHRISTOPHER SMART, A.M., 

FELLOW OF PEMBROKE HALL, CAMBRIDGE. 



BOOK I. 

PROLOGUE. 

What from the founder Esop fell, 
In neat familiar verse I tell : 
Twofold's the genius of the page, 
To make you smile and make you sage. 
But if the critics we displease, 
By wrangling brutes ancl talking trees, 
Let them remember, ere they blame, 
We're working neither sin nor shame ; 
'Tis but a play to form the youth 
By fiction, in the cause of truth. 

EABLE I. THE WOLF AND THE LAMB. 

By thirst incited; to the brook 
The Wolf and Lamb themselves betook. 
The Wolf high up the current drank, 
The Lamb far lower down the bank. 
Then, bent his rav'nous maw to cram, 
The Wolf took umbrage at the Lamb. 
" How dare you trouble all the flood, 
And mingle my good drink with mud?" 
" Sir," says the Lambkin, sore afraid, 
" How should I act, as you upbraid ? 



474 THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. Book I. 

The thing yon mention cannot be, 

The stream descends from yon to me." 

Abash'd by facts, says he, u I know 

'Tis now exact six months ago 

Yon strove my honest fame to blot" — 

u Six months ago, sir, I was not." 

" Then 'twas th' old ram thy sire/' he cried, 

And so he tore him, till he died. 

To those this fable I address 
Who are determined to oppress, 
And trump up any false pretence, 
But they will injure innocence. 

II. THE FROGS DESIRING A KING. 

With equal laws when Athens throve, 
The petulance of freedom drove 
Their state to license, which o'erthrew 
Those just restraints of old they knew. 
Hence, as a factious discontent 
Through every rank and order went, 
Pisistratus the tyrant form'd 
A party, and the fort he storm'd : 
Which yoke, while all bemoan'd in grief, 
(Not that he was a cruel chief, 
But they unused to be controll'd) 
Then Esop thus his fable told : 

The Frogs, a freeborn people made, 
From out their marsh with clamor pray'd 
That Jove a monarch would assign 
With power their manners to refine. 
The sovereign smiled, and on their bog 
Sent his petitioners a log, 
Which, as it dash'd upon the place, 
At first alarm' d the tim'rous race. 
But ere it long had lain to cool , 
One slily peep'd out of the pool, 
And finding it a king in jest, 
He boldly summon d all the rest. 
Now, void of fear 7 the tribe advanced, 
And on the timber leap'd and danced, 



Fable III. the fables of ph.edrus. 475 

And having let their fury loose, 

In gross affronts and rank abuse, 

Of Jove they sought another king, 

For useless was this wooden thing. 

Then he a water-snake empower'd, 

Who one by one their race devour'd. 

They try to make escape in vain, 

Nor, dumb through fear, can they complain. 

JBy stealth they Mercury depute, 

That Jove would once more hear their suit, 

And send their sinking state to save ; 

But he in wrath this answer gave : 

"You scorn'd the good king that you had, 

And therefore you shall bear the bad." 

Ye likewise, Athenian friends, 
Convinced to what impatience tends, 
Though slavery be no common curse, 
Be still, for fear of worse and worse. 

III. THE VAIN JACKDAW. 

Lest any one himself should plume, 
And on his neighbour's worth presume ; 
But still let Nature's garb prevail— 
Esop has left this little tale : 

A Daw, ambitious and absurd, 
Pick'd up the quills of Juno's bird ; 
And, with the gorgeous spoil adorn'd, 
All his own sable brethren scorn'd, 
And join'd the peacocks — who in scoff 
Stripp'd the bold thief, and drove him off. 
The Daw, thus roughly handled, went 
To his own kind in discontent : 
But they in turn contemn the spark, 
And brand with many a shameful mark. 
Then one he formerly disdain' d, 
" Had you," said he, " at home remain'd— 
Content with Nature's ways and will, 
You had not felt the peacock's bill ; 
Nor 'mongst the birds of your own dress 
Had been deserted in distress." 



476 THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. Book I. 

IV. THE DOG IN THE RIVER. 

The churl that wants another's fare 
Deserves at least to lose his share. 

As through the stream a Dog convey' d 
A piece of meat, he spied his shade 
In the clear mirror of the flood, 
And thinking it was flesh and blood, 
Snapp'd to deprive him of the treat : — 
But mark the glutton's self-defeat, 
Miss'd "both another's and his own, 
Both shade and substance, beef and bone. 

V. THE HEIFER, GOAT, SHEEP, AND LION. 

A partnership with men in power 
We cannot build upon an hour. 
This Fable proves the fact too true : 

An Heifer, Goat, and harmless Ewe, 
Were with the Lion as allies, 
To raise in desert woods supplies. 
There, when they jointly had the luck 
To take a most enormous buck, 
The Lion first the parts disposed, 
And then his royal will disclosed. 
" The first, as Lion hight, I crave ; 
The next you yield to me, as brave ; 
The third is my peculiar due, 
As being stronger far than you ; 
The fourth you likewise will renounce, 
For him that touches, I shall trounce." 
Thus rank unrighteousness and force 
Seized all the prey without remorse. 

VI. THE FROGS AND SUN. 

When Esop saw, with inward grief, 
The nuptials of a neighb'ring thief, 
He thus his narrative begun : 

Of old 'twas rumor'd that the Sun 
Would take a wife : with hideous cries 
The quer'lous Frogs alarm'd the skies. 



Fable VIII. THE FABLES OF PH.EDKU3. 477 

Moved at their murmurs, Jove inquired 
What was the thing that they desired ? 
"When thus a tenant of the lake, 
In terror, for his brethren spake : 
a Ev'n now one Sun too much is found, 
And dries up all the pools around, 
Till we thy creatures perish here ; 
But oh, how dreadfully severe, 
Should he at length be made a sire, 
And propagate a race of fire ! " 

VII. THE FOX AND THE TRAGIC MASK. 

A Fox beheld a Mask — " rare 
The headpiece, if but brains were there ! " 
This holds — whene'er the Fates dispense 
Pomp, pow'r, and everything but sense. 

VIII. THE WOLF AND CRANE. 

Who for his merit seeks a price 
From men of violence and vice, 
Is twice a fool — first so declared, 
As for the worthless he has cared ; 
Then after all, his honest aim 
Must end in punishment and shame. 

A bone the Wolf devour' d in haste, 
Stuck in his greedy throat so fast, 
That, tortured with the pain, he roar'd, 
And ev'ry beast around implored, 
That who a remedy could find 
Should have a premium to his mind. 
A Crane was wrought upon to trust 
His oath at length — and down she thrust 
Her neck into his throat impure, 
And so perform'd a desp'rate cure. 
At which, when she desired her fee, 
" You "fe-ase, ungrateful minx," says he, 
* Whom I so kind forbore to kill, 
And now, forsooth, you'd bring your bill ! " 



478 THE FABLES OF PHiEDRUS. Book 1 

IX. THE HARE AND THE SPARROW. 

Still to give cautions, as a friend, 
And not one's own affairs attend, 
Is but impertinent and rain, 
As these few verses will explain. 
A Sparrow taunted at a Hare 
Caught by an eagle high in air, 
And screaming loud — " Where now," says she, 
" Is your renown'd velocity ? 
Why loiter'd your much boasted speed ?" 
Just as she spake, an hungry glede 
Did on th' injurious railer fall, 
Nor could her cries avail at all. 
The Hare, with its expiring breath, 
Thus said : " See comfort ev'n in death ! 
She that derided my distress 
Must now deplore her own no less." 

X. THE WOLF AND FOX, WITH THE APE FOR JUDGE, 

Whoe'er by practice indiscreet 
Has pass'd for a notorious cheat, 
Will shortly find his credit fail, 
Though he speak truth, says Esop's tale. 
The Wolf the Fox for theft arraign'd ; 
The Fox her innocence maintain'd : 
The Ape, as umpire, takes his seat ; 
Each pleads his cause with skill and heat. 
Then thus the Ape, with aspect grave, 
The sentence from the hustings gave : 
" For you, Sir Wolf, I do descry- 
That all your losses are a lie — 
And you, with negatives so stout, 
O Fox ! have stolen the goods no doubt." 

XI. THE ASS AND THE LION HUNTING. 

A coward, full of pompous speech, 
The ignorant may overreach ; 
But is the laughing-stock of those 
Who know how far his valor goes. 



Fable XII. the fables of ph,edrus. 479* 

Once on a time it came to pass, 
The Lion hunted with the Ass, 
Whom hiding in the thickest shade 
He there proposed should lend him aid, 
By trumpeting so strange a bray, 
That all the beasts he should dismay, 
And drive them o'er the desert heath 
Into the lurking Lion's teeth. 
Proud of the task, the long-ear'd loon 
Struck up such an outrageous tune, 
That 'twas a miracle to hear — 
The beasts forsake their haunts with fear, 
And in the Lion's fangs expired r 
Who, being now with slaughter tired, 
Call'd out the Ass, whose noise he stops. 
The Ass, parading from the copse, 
Cried out with most conceited scoff, 
" How did my music-piece go off? 
a So well — were not thy courage known, 
Their terror had been all my own !" 

XII. the stag at the fountain. 

Full often what you now despise 
Proves better than the things you prize ; 
Let Esop's narrative decide : 

A Stag beheld, with conscious pride, 
(As at the fountain-head he stood) 
His image in the silver flood, 
And there extols his branching horns, 
While his poor spindle-shanks he scorns— 
But, lo ! he hears the hunter's cries, 
And, frighten' d, o'er the champaign flies—' 
His swiftness baffles the pursuit : 
At length a wood receives the brute, 
And by his horns entangled there, 
The pack began his flesh to tear : 
Then dying thus he wail'd his fate : 
" Unhappy me ! and wise too late ! 
How useful what I did disdain ! 
How grievous that which made me vain!" 



480 THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. Book I 

XIII. THE FOX AND THE CROW. 

His folly in repentance ends, 
Who, to a flatt'ring knave attends. 
A Crow, her hunger to appease, 
Had from a window stolen some cheese, 
And sitting on a lofty pine 
In state, was just about to dine. 
This, when a Fox observed below, 
He thus harangued the foolish Crow : 
" Lady, how beauteous to the view 
Those glossy plumes of sable hue! 
Thy features how divinely fair ! 
With what a shape, and what an air ! 
Could you but frame your voice to sing, 
You'd have no rival on the wing." 
But she, now willing to display 
Her talents in the vocal way, 
Let go the cheese of luscious taste, 
Which Renard seized with greedy haste. 
The grudging dupe now sees at last 
That for her folly she must fast. 

XIY. THE COBBLER TURNED DOCTOR. 

A bankrupt Cobbler, poor and lean, 
(No bungler e'er was half so mean) 
Went to a foreign place, and there 
Began his med'cines to prepare : 
But one of more especial note 
He call'd his sov'reign antidote ; 
And by his technical bombast 
Contrived to raise a name at last. 
It happen'd that the king was sick, 
Who, willing to detect the trick, 
Call'd for some water in an ewer, 
Poison in which he feign'd to pour : 
The antidote was likewise mix'd ; 
He then upon th' empiric fix'd 
To take the medicated cup, 
And, for a premium, drink it up. 



Fable XVI. the fables of phjedrus. 481 

The quack, through dread of death, confess'd 

That he was of no skill possess'd • 

But all this great and glorious job 

Was made of nonsense and the mob. 

Then did the king his peers convoke, 

And thus unto th' assembly spoke : 

" My lords and gentlemen, I rate 

Your folly as inordinate, 

Who trust your heads into his hand, 

Where no one had his heels japann'cl." — 

This story their attention craves 
Whose weakness is the prey of knaves. 

XY. THE SAPIEXT ASS. 

In all the changes of a state, 
The poor are the most fortunate, 
Who, save the name of him they call 
Their king, can find no odds at all. 
The truth of this you now may read — 

A fearful old man in a mead, 
While leading of his Ass about, 
Was startled at the sudden shout 
Of enemies approaching nigh. 
He then advised the Ass to fly, 
" Lest we be taken in the place :" 
But loth at all to mend his pace, 
"Pray, will the conqueror," quoth Jack, 
"'With double panniers load my back?" 
"No," says the man. "If that's the thing," 
Cries he, " I care not who is king." 

XYI. THE SHEEP, THE STAG, AXD THE WOLF. 

When one rogue would another get 
For surety in a case of debt, 
'Tis not the thing t' accept the terms, 
But dread th' event — the tale affirms. 

A Stag approach' d the Sheep, to treat 
For one good bushel of her wheat. 
" The honest Wolf .will give his bond." 
At which, beginning to despond, 

2 i 



482 THE FABLES OF PH.EDPOJS. Book I. 

" The Wolf (cries she) 's a vagrant bite, 
And you are quickly ont of sight ; 
Where shall I find or him or you 
Upon the day the debt is due ?" 

XVII. TIIE SHEEP, THE DOG, AND THE WOLF. 

Liars are liable to rue 
The mischief they 're so prone to do. 
The Sheep a Dog unjustly clunn'd 
One loaf directly to refund, 
Which he the Dog to the said Sheep 
Had given in confidence to keep. 
The Wolf was summoned, and he swore 
It was not one, but ten or more. 
The Sheep was therefore cast at law 
To pay for things she never saw. 
But, lo ! ere many days ensued, 
Dead in a ditch the Wolf she view'd : 
" This, this," she cried, " is Heaven's decree 
Of justice on a wretch like thee." 



XIX. THE BITCH AND HER PUPP 

Bad men have speeches smooth and fair, 
Of which, that we should be aware, 
And such designing villains thwart, 
The underwritten lines exhort. 

A Bitch besought one of her kin 
For room to put her Puppies in : 
She, loth to say her neighbour nay, 
Directly lent both hole and hay. 
But asking to be repossess'd, 
For longer time the former press' d,' 
Until her Puppies gather'd strength, 
Which second lease expired at length ; 
And when, abused at such a rate, 
The lender grew importunate, 
"The place," quoth she, " I will resign 
When you 're a match for me and mine/' 



i-U.-J. 



Fable XXII. the fables of pk^drus. 483 

XX. THE HUNGRY DOGS. 

A stupid plan that fools project, 
Not only will not take effect, 
But proves destructive in the end 
To those that bungle and pretend. 

Some hungry Dogs beheld an hide 
Deep sunk beneath the crystal tide, 
Which, that they might extract for food, 
They strove to drink up all the flood ; 
But burst en in the desp'rate deed, 
They perish' d ; ere they could succeed. 

XXI. THE OLD LION. 

Whoever, to his honor's cost, 
His pristine dignity has lost, 
Is the fool's jest and coward's scorn, 
When once deserted and forlorn. 

With years enfeebled and decay' d, 
A Lion gasping hard was laid : 
Then came, with furious tusk, a boar, 
To vindicate his wrongs of yore : 
The bull was next in hostile spite, 
With goring horn his foe to smite : 
At length the ass himself, secure 
That now impunity was sure, 
His blow too insolently deals, 
And kicks his forehead with his heels. 
Then thus the Lion, as he died : 
" 'Twas hard to bear the brave," he cried ; 
But to be trampled on by thee 
Is Nature's last indignity; 
And thou, O despicable thing, 
Giv'st death at least a double stinsr." 



o* 



XXII. THE MAN AND THE WEASEL. 

A Weasel, hj a person caught, 
And willing to get off, besought 
The man to spare.- " Be not severe 
On him that keeps vour pantry clear 

2 i 2 



484: THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. Book I. 

Of those intolerable mice." 

" This were/' says he, " a work of price, 

If clone entirely for my sake, 

And good had been the plea you make : 

But since, with all these pains and care, 

You seize yourself the dainty fare 

On which those vermin used to fall, 

And then devour the mice and all, 

Urge not a benefit in vain." 

This said, the miscreant was slain. 

The satire here those chaps will own, 
Who, useful to themselves alone, 
And bustling for a private end, 
Would boast the merit of a friend. 

XXIII. THE FAITHFUL HOUSE-DOG. 

A Man that's gen'rous all at once 
May dupe a novice or a dunce ; 
But to no purpose are the snares 
He for the knowing ones prepares. 
When late at night a felon tried 
To bribe a Dog with food, he cried, 
" What ho ! do you attempt to stop 
The mouth of him that guards the shop ? 
You 're mightily mistaken, sir, 
For this strange kindness is a spur, 
To make me double all my clin, 
Lest such a scoundrel should come in." 

XXIY. THE PROUD FROG. 

When poor men to expenses run, 
And ape their betters, they 're undone. 

An Ox the Frog a-grazing view'd, 
And envying his magnitude, 
She puffs her wrinkled skin, and tries 
To vie with his enormous size : 
Then asks her young to own at least 
That she was bigger than the beast. 
They answer, No. With might and main 
She swells and strains, and swells again. 



Fable XXVI. the fables of ph.edrus. 485 

" Now for it ; who has got the day?" 
The Ox is larger still, they say. 
At length, with more and more ado, 
She raged and puffed, and burst in two. 

XXY. THE DOG AND THE CROCODILE. 

Who give bad precepts to the wise, 
And cautious men with guile advise, 
Not only lose their toil and time, 
But slip into sarcastic rhyme. 

The dogs that are about the Nile, 
Through terror of the Crocodile, 
Are therefore said to drink and run. 
It happen'd on a day, that one, 
As scamp'ring by the river side, 
Was by the Crocodile espied : 
' i Sir, at your leisure drink, nor fear 
The least design or treach'ry here." 
" That," says the Dog, "raani, would I do 
With all my heart, and thank you too, 
-But as you can on dog's flesh dine, 
You shall not taste a bit of mine." 

XX YI. THE FOX AND THE STORK. 

One should do injury to none; 
But he that has th' assault begun. 
Ought, says the fabulist, to find 
The dread of beino- served in kind. 

A Fox, to sup within his cave 
The Stork an invitation gave, 
Where, in a shallow dish, was pour'cl 
Some broth, which he himself devour" d : 
While the poor hungry Stork was fain 
Inevitably to abstain. 
The Stork, in turn, the Fox invites, 
And brings her liver and' her lights 
In a tall flagon, finely minced, 
And thrusting in her beak, convinced 
The Fox that he in grief must fast, 
While she enjoy' d the rich rej3ast. 



486 THE FABLES OF PHJEDRUS. Book I. 

Then, as in vain lie lick'd the neck, 
The Stork was heard her guest to check, 
' " That every one the fruits should bear 
Of their example, is but fair." 

XXVII. THE DOG, TREASURE, AND VULTURE. 

A Dog, while scratching up the ground, 
'Mongst human bones a treasure found ; 
But as his sacrilege was great, 
To covet riches was his fate, 
And punishment of his offence ; 
He therefore never stirr'd from thence, 
But both in hunger and the cold, 
With anxious care he watch' d the gold, 
Till wholly negligent of food, 
A ling'ring death at length ensued. 
Upon his corse a Yulture stood, 
And thus descanted : — " It is good, 
O Dog, that there thou liest bereaved, 
Who in the highway wast conceived, 
And on a scurvy dunghill bred, 
Hadst royal riches in thy head." 

XXYIII. THE FOX AND EAGLE. 

Howe'er exalted in your sphere, 

There's something from the mean to fear ; 

For, if their property you wrong, 

The poor's revenge is quick and strong. 

When on a time an Eagle stole 
The cubs from out a Fox's hole, 
And bore them to her young away, 
That they might feast upon the prey, 
The dam pursues the winged thief, 
And deprecates so great a grief ; 
But safe upon the lofty tree, 
The Eagle scorn' d the Fox's plea, 
With that the Fox perceived at hand 
An altar, whence she snatch d a brand, 
And compassing with flames the wood, 
Put her in terror for her brood. 



Fable XXX. the fables of ph^drus. 487 

She therefore, lest her house should burn, 
Submissive did the cubs return. 



XXIX. THE FEOGS A2CD BULLS. 

Men of low life are in distress 
When great ones enmity profess. 

There was a Bull-fight in the fen, 
A Frog cried out in trouble then, 
a Oh, what perdition on our race ! ,? 
u How/' says another, " can the case 
Be quite so desp'rate as you've said ? 
For they're contending who is head, 
And lead a life from us disjoin' d, 
Of sep'rate station, diverse kind." — 
" But he, who worsted shall retire. 
Will come into this lowland mire, 
And with his hoof dash out our brains, 
Wherefore their rage to us pertains." 

XXX. THE KITE ASD THE DOVES. 

He that would have the wicked reign, 
Instead of help will find his bane. 
The Doves had oft escaped the Kite, 
By their celerity of flight ; 
The ruffian then to cozmage stoop" d, 
And thus the tim'rous race he duped : 
" Why do you lead a life of fear, 
Bather than my proposals hear : 
Elect me for your king, and I 
Will all your race indemnify." 
They foolishly the Kite believed, 
Who having now the pow'r received, 
Began upon the Doves to prey, 
And exercise tyrannic sway. 
" Justly," says one who yet remain 'd, 
"We die the death ourselves ordain' d." 



488 THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. Book II. 

BOOE II. 
PROLOGUE. 

The way of writing Esop chose, 
Sound doctrine by example shows ; 
Eor nothing by these tales is meant, 
So much as that the bad repent ; 
And by the pattern that is set, 
Due diligence itself should whet. 
Wherefore, whatever arch conceit 
You in our narratives shall meet 
(If with the critic's ear it take, 
And for some special purpose make), 
Aspires by real use to fame, 
Bather than from an author's name. 
In fact, with all the care I can, 
I shall abide my Esop's plan : 
But if at times I intersperse 
My own materials in the verse, 
That sweet variety may please 
The fancy, and attention ease ; 
Beceive it in a friendly way ; 
Which grace I purpose to repay 
By this consciousness of my song ; 
Whose praises, lest they be too long, 
Attend, why you should stint the sneak, 
But give the modest, ere they seek. 

Eable I. THE judicious lion. 

A Lion on the carcass stood 
Of a young heifer in the wood ; 
A robber that was passing there, 
Came up, and ask'd him for a share. 
" A share," says he, " you should receive, 
But that you seldom ask our leave 
Eor things so handily removed." 
At which the ruffiian was reproved. 



.Fable III. the fables of pbledrus. -±89 

It happen' d that the selfsame day 
A modest pilgrim came that way, 
And when he saw the Lion, fled : 
Says he, " There is no cause of dread, 
In gentle tone — take you the chine, 
Which to your merit I assign." — 
Then having parted what he slew, 
To favour his approach withdrew. 
A great example, worthy praise, 
But not much copied now-a-days ! 
For churls have coffers that overflow, 
And sheepish worth is poor and low. 

II. THE BALD-PATE DUPE. 

Fondling or fondled — any how — 

(Examples of all times allow) 

That men by women must be fleeced. 

A dame, whose years were well increased, 
But skill' d t' affect a youthful mien, 
Was a staid husband's empress queen ; 
Who yet sequester' d half his heart 
For a young damsel, brisk and smart. 
They, while each wanted to attach 
Themselves to him, and seem his match, 
Began to tamper with his hair. 
He, pleased with their officious care, 
Was on a sudden made a coot ; 
For the young strumpet, branch and root, 
Stripp'd of the hoary hairs his crown, 
E'en as th' old cat grubb'd up the brown. 

III. THE MAN" AST) THE DOG. 

Torn by a Cur, a man was led 

To throw the snappish thief some bread 

Dipt in the blood, which, he was told, 

Had been a remedy of old. 

Then Esop thus : — " Forbear to show 

A pack of dogs the thing you do, 

Lest they should soon devour us quite, 

When thus rewarded as they bite." 



490 THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. Book II. 

One wicked miscreant's success 
Makes many more the trade profess. 

IV. THE EAGLE, THE CAT. AXD THE SOW. 

An Eagle built upon an oak : 

A Cat and kittens had bespoke 

A hole about the middle bough ; 

And underneath a woodland Sow 

Had placed her pigs upon the ground. 

Then treach'rous Puss a method found 

To overthrow, for her own good, 

The peace of this chance neighbourhood. 

First to the Eagle she ascends — 

•• Perdition on your head impends, 

And, far too probable, on mine ; 

For you observe that grubbing Swine 

Still works the tree to overset, 

Us and our young with ease to get.'' 

Thus having filled the Eagle's pate 

With consternation very great, 

Down creeps she to the Sow below ; 

•• The Eagle is vour deadlv foe, 

And is determined not to spare 

Your pigs, when you shall take the air." 

Here too a terror being spread. 

By what this tattling gossip said. 

She slily to her kittens stole. 

And rested snug within her hole. 

Sneaking from thence with silent tread 

By night her family she fed. 

But look'd out sharply all the clay. 

Affecting terror and dismay. 

The Eagle, lest the tree should fall. 

Keeps to the boughs, nor stirs at all ; 

And, anxious for her grunting race. 

The Sow is loth to quit her place. 

In short, they and their young ones starve, 

And leave a prey for Puss to carve. 

Hence wam'd ye credulous and young. 
Be cautious of a double tongue. 



Fable Y. the fables of piijedrus. 491 



Y. CESAR AND HIS SLAVE. 

There is in town a certain set 

Of mortals, ever in a sweat, 

Who idly bustling here and there, 

Have never any time to spare, 

While upon nothing they discuss 

With heat, and most outrageous fuss ; 

Plague to themselves, and to the rest 

A most intolerable pest. 

I will correct this stupid clan 

Of busy-bodies, if I can, 

By a true story ; lend an ear. 

'Tis worth a trifler's time to hear. 

Tiberius Caesar, in his way 
To Naples, on a certain day 
Came to his own Misenian seat, 
(Of old Lucullus's retreat,) 
Which from the mountain top surveys 
Two seas, by looking different ways. 
Here a shrewd slave beojan to cringe 
With dapper coat and sash of fringe, 
And, as his master walk'd between 
The trees upon the tufted green, 
Finding the weather very hot, 
Officiates with his wat'ring-pot ; 
And still attending through the glade,, 
Is ostentatious of his aid. 
Caesar turns to another row, 
Where neither sun nor rain could go ; 
He, for the nearest cut he knows, 
Is still before with pot and rose. 
Caesar observes him twist and shift, 
And understands the fellow's drift; 
u Here, you sir," says th' imperial lord. 
The bustler, hoping a reward, 
Runs skipping up. The chief in jest 
Thus the poor jackanapes addressed : 
" As here is no great matter done, 
Small is the premium you Lave won : 



492 THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. Book II. 

The cuffs that make a servant free, 
Are for a better man than thee." 

VI. THE EAGLE, CARRION CROW, AND TORTOISE. 

No soul can warrant life or right, 
Secure from men of lawless might ; 
But if a knave's advice assist, 
'Gainst fraud and force what can exist ? 

An Eagle on a Tortoise fell, 
And mounting bore him by the shell : 
She with her house her body screens, 
Nor can be hurt by any means. 
A Carrion Crow came by that way, 
" You've got," says she, " a luscious prey ; 
But soon its weight will make you rue, 
Unless I show you what to do." 
The captor promising a share, 
She bids her from the upper air 
To dash the shell against a rock, 
Which would be sever' d by the shock. 
The Eagle follows her behest, 
Then feasts on turtle with his guest. 

Thus she, whom Nature made so strong, 
And safe against external wrong, 
No match for force, and its allies, 
To cruel death a victim dies. 

VII. THE MULES AND ROBBERS. 

Two laden Mules were on the road — 
A charge of money was bestowed 
Upon the one, the other bore 
Some sacks of barley. He before, 
Proud of his freight, begun to swell, 
Stretch' d out his neck, and shook his bell. 
The poor one, with an easy pace, 
Came on behind a little space, 
When on a sudden, from the wood 
A gang of thieves before them stood ; 
And, while the muleteers engage, 
Wound the poor creature in their rage : 



Fable VIII. the fables of peledrtjs. 493 

Eager they seize the golden prize. 
But the vile barley-bags despise. 
The plunder' d mule was all forlorn, 
The other thank' d them for their scorn : 
■** 'Tis now my turn the head to toss, 
Sustaining neither wound nor loss." 
The low estate's from peril clear, 
But wealthy men have much to fear. 

VIII. THE STAG AND THE OXKS\ 

A Stag unharbour'd by the hounds, 

Forth from his woodland covert bounds, 

And blind with terror, at th' alarm 

Of death, makes to a neighboring farm ; 

There snug conceals him in some straw, 

Which in an ox's stall he saw. 

" Wretch that thou art !" a bullock cried, 

" That com'st within this place to hide ; 

By trusting man you are undone, 

And into sure destruction rim." 

But he with suppliant voice replies : 

a Do you but wink with both your eyes, 

I soon shall my occasions shape, 

To make from hence a fair escape." 

The day is spent, the night succeeds, 

The herdsman comes, the cattle feeds, 

But nothing sees — then to and fro 

Time after time the servants go ; 

Yet not a soul perceives the case. 

The steward passes by the place, 

Himself no wiser than the rest. 

The joyful Stag his thanks address' d 

To all the Oxen, that he there 

Had found a refuge in despair. 

u We wish you well," an Ox return' d, 

tt But for your life are still concern' d, 

For if old Argus come, no doubt, 

His hundred eyes will find you out." 

Scarce had the speaker made an end, 

When from the supper of a friend 



494 THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. Book II. 

The master enters at the door, 

And, seeing that the steers were poor 

Of late, advances to the rack. 

" Why were the fellow's hands so slack ? 

Here's hardly any straw at all, 

Brush down those cobwebs from the wall. 

Pray how much labour would it ask ?" 

"While thus he undertakes the task, 

To dust, and rummage by degrees, 

The Stag's exalted horns he sees : 

Then calling all his folks around, 

He lays him breathless on the ground. 

The master, as the tale declares, 
Looks sharpest to his own affairs. 

EPILOGUE. 

A statue of great cost and fame 
Th' Athenians raised to Esop's name, 
Him setting on th' the eternal base, 
Whom servile rank could not disgrace ; 
That they might teach to all makind 
The way to honor's unconfined, 
That glory's due to rising worth, 
And not alone to pomp and birth. 

Since then another seized the post. 
Lest I priority should boast, 
This pow'r and praise was yet my own, ■ 
That he should not excel alone : 
Nor is this Envy's jealous ire, 
But Emulation's genuine fire. 

And if Home should approve my piece, 
She'll soon have more to rival Greece. 
But should th' invidious town declare 
Against my plodding over-care, 
They cannot take away, nor hurt 
Th' internal conscience of desert. 

If these my studies reach their aim. 
And, reader, your attention claiir , 
If your perception fully weighs 
The drift of these my labour' d lays ; 



THE FABLES OF PH.EDHUS. 49-5 

Then such success precludes complaint. 
But if the pictures which I paint 
Should happen to attract their sight, 
"Whom luckless Nature brought to light, 
"Who scorn the labours of a man, 
And when they carp do all they can ; 
Yet must this fatal cause to mourn 
With all its bitterness be borne, 
Till fortune be ashamed of days, 
When genius fails, and interest sways. 



BOOK 1IL 

PROLOGUE, TO EUTYCHUS. 

The tales of Phsedrus would you read, 
Eutychus. you must be freed 
Erom business, that the mind unbent 
May take the author's full intent. 

You urge that this poetic turn 
Of mine is not of such concern, 
As with your time to interfere 
A moment's space : 'tis therefore clear 
For those essays you have no call, 
Which suit not your affairs at all. 
A time may come, perhaps you'll say, 
That I shall make a holiday, 
And have my vacant thoughts at large. 
The student's office to discharge — 
And can you such vile stuff peruse, 
Rather than serve domestic views, 
Return the visits of a friend, 
Or with your wife your leisure spend, 
Relax your mind, your limbs relieve, 
And for new toil new strength receive ? 

Erom worldly cares you must estrange 
Your thoughts, and feel a perfect change, 



496 THE FABLES OF PH^DRUS. Book III. 

If to Parnassus you repair, 

And seek for your admission there. 

Me — (whom a Grecian mother bore 

On Hill Pierian, udiere of yore 

Mnemosyne in love divine 

Brought forth to Jove the tuneful Nine. 

Though sprung where genius reign'd with art, 

I grubb'd up av'rice from my heart, 

And rather for applause than pay, 

Embraced the literary way) 

Yet as a writer and a wit, 

With some abatements they admit. 

What is his case then, do you think, 

Who toils for wealth, nor sleeps a wink, 

Preferring to the pleasing pain 

Of composition sordid gain ? 

But hap what will (as Sinon said, 

When to king Priam he was led), 

I book the third shall now fulfil, 

With ^Esop for my master still ; 

Which book I dedicate to you, 

As both to worth and honour due. 

Pleased, if you read — if not, content 

As conscious of a sure event, 

That these my fables shall remain, 

And after-ages entertain. 

In a few words I now propose 
To point from whence the Fable rose. 
A servitude was all along- 
Exposed to most oppressive wrong, 
The suff rer therefore did not dare 
His heart's true dictates to declare * 
But couch'd his meaning in the veil 
Of many an allegoric tale, 
And jesting with a moral aim, 
Eluded all offence and blame. 
This is the path that I pursue, 
Inventing more than ^Esop knew ; 
And certain topics by-the-by, 
To my own hindrance did I try. 



THE FABLES OF PHJEDKU3. 497 

But was there any of mankind, 
Besides Sejanus, so inclined, 
Who was alone to work my fall, 
"'Informer, witness, judge and all ; 
I would confess the slander true, 
And own such hardships were my due ; 
Nor would I fly, my grief to ease, 
To such poor lenitives as these. 
If any through suspicion errs, 
And to himself alone refers, 
What was design'd for thousands more 
He '11 show too plainly, where he 's sore. 
Yet ev'n from such I crave excuse, 
For (far from personal abuse) 
My verse in gen'ral would put down 
True life and manners of the town. 

But here, perhaps, some one will ask 
Why I, forsooth, embraced this task ? 
If Esop, though a Phrygian, rose, 
And ev'n derived from Scythian snows ; 
If Anacharsis could devise 
By wit to gain th' immortal prize ; 
Shall I, who to learn' d Greece belong, 
Neglect her honour and her song, 
And by dull sloth myself disgrace ? 
Since we can reckon up in Thrace, 
The authors that have sweetest sung, 
Where Linus from Apollo sprung ; 
And he whose mother was a muse, 
Whose voice could tenderness infuse 
To solid rocks, strange monsters quell' d, 
And Hebrus in his course withheld. 

Envy, stand clear, or thou shalt rue 
Th' attack, for glory is my due. 
Thus having wrought ivpon your ear, 
I beg that you would be sincere, 
And in the poet's cause avow 
That candor, all the world allow. 



K 



498 THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. Book III. 

Fable I. the old woman and empty cask. 

An ancient dame a firkin sees, 
In which the rich Falernian lees 
Send from the nobly tinctured shell 
A rare and most delicious smell ! 
There when a season she had clung 
With greedy nostrils to the bung, 
" O spirit exquisitely sweet !" 
She cried, " how perfectly complete 
Were you of old, and at the best, 
When ev'n your dregs have such a zest !" 
They '11 see the drift of this my rhyme, 
Who knew the author in his prime. 

II. THE PANTHER AND SHEPHERDS. 

Their scorn comes home to them again 
Who treat the wretched with disdain. 

A careless Panther long ago 
Fell in a pit, which overthrow 
The Shepherds aH around alarm' d ; 
When some themselves with cudgels arm'd ; 
Others threw stones upon its head ; 
But some in pity sent her bread, 
As death was not the creature's due. 
The night came on— the hostile crew 
Went home, not doubting in the way 
To find the Panther dead next day. 
But she, recovering of her strength, 
Sprang from the pit and fled at length. 
But rushing in a little space 
From forth her den upon the place, 
She tears the flock, the Shepherd slays, 
And all the region round dismays. 
Then they began to be afraid 
Who spared the beast and lent their aid ; 
They reck not of the loss, but make 
Their pray'r for life, when thus she spake : 
" I well remember them that threw 
The stones, and well remember you 



Fable V. the fables of ph^drus. 499 

Who gave me bread — desist to fear, 

For 'twas the oppressor brought me here." 

III. THE APE'S HEAD. 

A certain person, as he stood 

Within the shambles buying food, 

Amongst the other kitchen fare 

Beheld an Ape suspended there ; 

And asking how 'twould taste, when dress' d, 

The butcher shook his head in jest ; 

" If for such prog your fancy is, 

Judge of the flavour by the phiz." 

This speech was not so true as keen, 
For I in life have often seen 
Good features with a wicked heart, 
And plainness acting virtue's part. 

IY. ESOP AND THE INSOLENT FELLOW. 

Fools from success perdition meet. 
An idle wretch about the street 
At Esop threw a stone in rage. 
" So much the better," quoth the sage, 
And gives three farthings for the job ; 
a I've no more money in my fob ; 
But if you 'U follow my advice, 
More shall be levied in a trice." 
It happen' d that the selfsame hour 
Came by a man of wealth and pow'r. 
" There, throw your pellet at my lord, 
And you shall have a sure reward !" 
The fellow did as he was told ; 
But mark the downfall of the bold ; 
His hopes are baulk' d, and, lo ! he gains 
A rope and gibbet for his pains. 

Y. THE FLY AND THE MULE. 

A Fly that sat upon the beam 

Rated the Mule : " Why, sure you dream ? 

2 K 2 



500 THE FABLES OF PH-EDRU5. 

•'• Pray get on faster with the cart 
Or I shall sting von till you smart !" 
She answers : " All this talk 1 hear 
With small attention, but must fear 
Him who upon the box sustains 
The pliant Whip, and holds the reins. 
Cease then your pertness — for I know 
When to rive back, and when to £0." 

This tale derides the talking crew, 
Whose empty threats are all they do. 

VI. THE DOG AND THE WOLF. 

I will, as briefly as I may. 
The sweets of liberty display. 

A Wolf half famish* d. chanced to see 
A Dog. as fat as dog could be ; 
For one day meeting on the road. 
They mutual compliments bestowed : 
•• Prithee."' says Isgrim. faint and weak, 
u How came you so well fed and sleek? 
I starve, though stronger of the two." 
,; It will be just as well with you.'" 
The Dog quite cool and frank replied. 
u If with my master you'll abide." 
•'•' For what *:'" " Why merely to attend. 
And from night thieves the door defend." 
" 1 gladly will accept the post. 
"What ! shall I bear with snow and frost. 
And all this rough inclement plight, 
Bather than have a home at night, 
And feed on plenty at my ease r" 
•• Come. then, with me n — the Wolf agrees. 
But as they went the mark he found, 
Wnere the Dog's collar had been bound : 
'• What's this, my friend T u Why, nothing. 5 5 " Nay, 
Be more explicit, sir. I pray." 
•• I'm somewhat fierce and apt to bite, 
Therefore they hold me pretty tight, 
That in the clay-time I may sleep, 
And night by night my vigils keep. 



Fable VII. the fables of ph^edrus. 501 

At eveningtide they let me out, 
And then I freely walk about : 
<Bread conies without a care of mine. 
I from my master's table dine ; 
The servants throw me many a scrap, 
With choice of pot-liquor to lap ; 
So, I've my bellyful, you find." 
" But can you go where you've a mind ?" 
"Not always, to be flat and plain." 
" Then, Dog, enjoy your post again, 
For to remain this servile thing, 
Old Isgrim would not be a king." 

VII. THE BROTHER AND SISTER. 

Warn'd by our council, oft beware, 
And look into yourself with care. 
There was a certain father had 
A homely girl and comely lad. 
These being at their childish play 
Within their mother's room one day, 
A looking-glass was in the chair, 
And they beheld their faces there. 
The boy grows prouder as he looks ; 
The girl is in a rage, nor brooks 
Her boasting brother's jests and sneers, 
Affronted at each word she hears : 
Then to her father down she flies, 
And urges all she can devise 
Against the boy, who could presume 
To meddle in a lady's room. 
At which, embracing each in turn, 
With most affectionate concern, 
" My dears," he says, " ye may not pass 
A day without this useful glass ; 
You, lest you spoil a pretty face, 
By doing tilings to your disgrace ; 
You, by good conduct to correct 
Your form, and beautify defect." 



502 THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. Book III. 



VIII. A SAYING OF SOCRATES. 

Though common be the name of friend, 

Few can to faithfulness pretend, 

That Socrates (whose cruel case, 

I'd freely for his fame embrace, 

And living any envy bear 

To leave my character so fair) 

Was building of a little cot, 

When some one, standing on the spot, 

Ask'd, as the folks are apt to do, 

" How comes so great a man as you 

Content with such a little hole ?" — 

"I wish," says he, "with all my soul, 

That this same little house I build 

Was with true friends completely nll'd." 

IX. OF DOUBT AND CREDULITY. 

'Tis frequently of bad event 
To give or to withhold assent. 
Two cases will th' affair explain— 
The good Hippolytus was slain • 
In that his stepdame credit found, 
And Troy was level! d with the ground; 
Because Cassandra's prescious care 
Sought, but obtain' d no credence there. 
The facts should then be very strong, 
Lest the weak judge determine wrong : 
But that I may not make too free 
With fabulous antiquity, 
I now a curious tale shall tell, 
Which I myself remember well. 

An honest man, that loved his wife, 
Was introducing into life 
A son upon the man's estate. 
One day a servant (whom, of late, 
He with his freedom had endu'd) 
Took him aside, and being shrewd, 
Supposed that he might be his heir 
When he'd divulged the whole affair. 



Fable IX. the fables of ph.edrus. 503 

Much did he lie against the youth, 
But more against the matron's truth : 
* And hinted that, which worst of all 
Was sure a lovers heart to gall, 
The visits of a lusty rake, 
And honour of his house at stake. 
He at this scandal taking heat, 
Pretends a journey to his seat \ 
But stopp'd at hand, while it was light, 
Where, on a sudden, and by night, 
He to his wife's apartment sped, 
Where she had put the lad to bed, 
As watchful of his youthful bloom. 
While now they're running to the room, 
And seek a light in haste, the sire, 
No longer stifling of his ire, 
Flies to the couch, where grouping round, 
A head, but newly shaved, he found ; 
Then, as alone, he vengeance breath' d, 
The sword within his bosom sheath' d — 
The candle ent'ring, when he spied 
The bleeding youth, and by his side 
The spotless dame, who being fast 
Asleep, knew nothing that had pass'd, 
Instant in utmost grief involved, 
He vengeance for himself resolved • 
And on that very weapon flew, 
Which his too credlous fury drew. 
Th' accusers take the woman straight, 
And drag to the centum virate \ 
Th' ill-natured world directly built 
A strong suspicion of her guilt, 
As she th' estate was to enjoy — 
The lawyers all their skill employ ; 
And a great spirit those exert 
Who most her innocence assert. 
The judges then to Caesar pray'd 
That he would lend his special aid ; 
Who, as they acted upon oath, 
Declared themselves extremely loth 



•504 THE FABLES OF PHJEDRUS. Book III. 

To close this intricate affair — 

He, taking then himself the chair, 

The clouds of calumny displaced. 

And Truth up to her fountain traced. 

" Let the freedman to vengeance go, 

The cause of all this scene of woe : 

For the poor widow, thus undone, 

Deprived of husband and of son, 

To pity has a greater plea 

Than condemnation, I decree — 

But if the man, with caution due, 

Had rather blamed than listen' d to 

The vile accuser, and his lie 

Had strictly search' d with Reason's eye, 

This desp'rate guilt he had not known, 

Nor branch and root his house o'erthrown." 

Nor wholly scorn, nor yet attend 
Too much at what the tatlers vend, 
Because there's many a sad neglect. 
Where you have little to suspect ; 
And treach'rous persons will attaint 
Men, against whom there's no complaint. 
Hence simple folks too may be taught 
How to form judgments as they ought, 
And not see with another's glass ; 
For things are come to such a pass, 
That love and hate work different ways, 
As int'rest or ambition sways. 
Them you may know, in them confide, 
Whom by experience you have tried. 

Thus have I made a long amends 
For that brief style which some offends. 



XI. THE COCK AND THE PEAKL. 



A Cock, while scratching all around, 
A Pearl upon the dunghill found : 

" O splendid thing in foul disgrace, 
Had there been any in the place 



Fable XIII. the fables of ph^edrus. 505 

That saw and knew thy worth when sold, 
Ere this thou hadst been set in gold. 
* But I, who rather would have got 
A corn of barley, heed thee not ; 
No service can there render' d be 
From me to you, and you to me." 
I write this tale to them alone 
To whom in vain my pearls are thrown. 

XII. THE BEES AND THE DRONES. 

Up in a lofty oak the Bees 
Had made their honey-combs : but these 
The Drones asserted they had wrought. 
Then to the bar the cause was brought 
Before the wasp, a learned chief, 
Who well might argue either brief, 
As of a middle nature made. 
He therefore to both parties said : 
" You're not dissimilar in size, 
And each with each your color vies ; 
That there's a doubt concerning both : 
But, lest I err, upon my oath, 
Hives for yourselves directly choose, 
And in the wax the work infuse, 
That, from the flavor and the form, 
We may point out the genuine swarm." 
The Drones refuse, the Bees agree — 
Then thus did Justice Wasp decree : 
u Who can, and who cannot, is plain, 
So take, ye Bees, your combs again." 
This narrative had been suppress'd 
Had not the Drones refused the test. 

XIII. ESOP PLAYING. 

As Esop was with boys at play, 
And had his nuts as well as they, 
A grave Athenian, passing by, 
Cast on the sage a scornful eye, 
As on a dotard quite bereaved : 
Which, when the moralist perceived, 



506 THE FABLES OF PH^EDUUS. Book III. 

(Rather himself a wit profess'd 
Than the poor subject of a jest) 
Into the public way he flung 
A bow that he had just unstrung : 
" There solve, thou conjurer/' he cries, 
" The problem, that before thee lies." 
The people throng ; he racks his brain, 
Nor can the thing enjoin' d explain. 
At last he gives it up — the seer 
Thus then in triumph made it clear : 
" As the tough bow exerts its spring, 
A constant tension breaks the string ; 
But if 'tis let at seasons loose, 
You may depend upon its use." 

Thus recreative sports and play 
Are good upon a holiday, 
And with more spirit they'll pursue 
The studies which they shall renew. 

XIY. THE DOG AND THE LAMB. 

A Dog bespoke a sucking Lamb, 

That used a she-goat as her dam, 

" You little fool, why, how you baa ! 

This goat is not your own mamma :" 

Then pointed to a distant mead, 

Where several sheep were put to feed. 

" I ask not," says the Lamb, " for her 

Who had me first at Nature's spur, 

And bore me for a time about, 

Then, like a fardel, threw me out ; 

But her that is content to bilk 

Her own dear kids, to give me milk." 

" Yet she that yean'd you sure," says Tray, 

" Should be preferr'd" — " I tell thee nay — 

Whence could she know that what she hid 

Was black or white ? — but grant she did — 

I being thus a male begot 

'Twas no great favor, since my lot 

Was hour by hour, throughout my life, 

To dread the butcher and his knife. 



Fable XY. the fables of phjedbus. 507 

Why should I therefore give my voice 

For her who had no pow'r or choice 

In my production, and not cleave 

To her so ready to relieve. 

When she beheld me left alone, 

And has such sweet indulgence shown?" 

Kind deeds parental love proclaim, 
Not mere necessity and name. 

XY. THE OWL AXD THE GRASSHOPPER. 

Those who will not the forms obey 
To be obliging in their way, 
Must often punishment abide 
For their ill-nature, and their pride. 

A Grasshopper, in rank ill-will, 
Was very loud and very shrill 
Against a sapient Owl's repose, 
Who was compelled by day to doze 
Within a hollow oak's retreat, 
As wont by night to quest for meat — 
She is desired to hold her peace. 
But at the word her cries increase \ 
Again requested to abate 
Her noise, she's more importunate. 
The Owl perceiving no redress, 
And that her words were less and less 
Accounted of, do longer pray'd. 
But thus an artifice essay'd : 
" Since 'tis impossible to nod, 
While harping like the Delphian god, 
You charm our ears, stead of a nap, 
A batch of nectar will I tap, 
Which lately from Minerva came ; 
Now if you do not scorn the same. 
Together let us bumpers ply." 
The Grasshopper, extremely dry. 
And, finding she had hit the key 
That gain'd applause, approach'd with glee ; 
At which the Owl upon her flew, 
And quick the trembling vixen slew. 



508 THE FABLES OF PELEDKUS. Book III. 

Thus by her death she was adjudged 
To give what in her life she grudged. 

XVI. THE TREES PROTECTED. 

The gods took certain trees (th' affair 
Was some time since) into their care. 
The oak was best approved by Jove, 
The myrtle by the queen of love ; 
The god of music and the day 
Vouchsafed to patronise the bay; 
The pine Cybele chanced to please, 
And the tall poplar Hercules. 
Minerva upon this inquired 
Why they all barren trees admired ? 
" The cause," says Jupiter, "is plain, 
Lest we give honour up for gain." 

" Let every one their fancy suit, 
I choose the olive for its fruit." 
The sire of gods and men replies, 
" Daughter, thou shalt be reckon' d wise 
By all the world, and justly too; 
For whatsover things we do, 
If not a life of useful days, 
How vain is all pretence to praise !" 

Whatever experiments you try, 
Have some advantage in your eye. 

XVII. JUNO AND THE PEACOCK. 

Her fav'rite bird to Juno came, 
And was in dudgeon at the dame, 
That she had not attuned her throat 
With Philomela's matchless note ; 
" She is the wonder of all ears ; 
But when I speak the audience sneers." 
The goddess to the bird replied, 
(Willing to have him pacified,) 
" You are above the rest endued 
With beauty and with magnitude ; 
Your neck the em'rald's gloss outvies, 
And what a blaze of gemmeous dies 



Fable XIX. the fables of ph^drus. 509 

Shines from the plumage of jour tail ! ' ' 
^ u All this dumb show will not avail/' 
Cries he, "if I'm surpass'd in voice.' ' 
" The fates entirely have the choice 
Of all the lots — fair form is yours ; 
The eagle's strength his prey secures ; 
The nightingale can sing an ode ; 
The crow and raven may forebode : 
All these in sheer contentment crave 
No other voice than Nature gave." 

By affectation be not sway'd, 
Where Nature has not lent her aid ; 
Nor to that flatt'ring hope attend, 
Which must in disappointment end. 

XVIII. ESOP AND THE IMPORTUNATE FELLOW. 

Esop (no other slave at hand) 

Received himself his lord's command 

An early supper to provide. 

From house to house he therefore tried 

To beg the favor of a light ; 

At length he hit upon the right. 

But as when first he sallied out 

He made his tour quite round about, 

On his return he took a race 

Directly, cross the market-place : 

When thus a talkative buffoon, 

" Esop, what means this light at noon ?" 

He answer' d briefly, as he ran, 

" Eellow, I'm looking for a man." 

Now if this jackanapes had weigh'd 
The true intent of what was said, 
He'd found that Esop had no sense 
Of manhood in impertinence. 

XIX. THE ASS AND PRIESTS OF CYBELE. 

The luckless wretch that's born to woe 
Must all his life affliction know — 
And harder still, his cruel fate 
Will on his very ashes wait. 



510 THE FABLES OF PELEDRUS. Book IV. 

Cybele's priests, in quest of bread, 
An Ass about the village led, 
With things for sale from door to door; 
Till work'd and beaten more and more, 
At length, when the poor creature died, 
They made them drums out of his hide. 
Then question' d " how it came to pass 
They thus could serve their darling Ass ?" 
The answer was, " He thought of peace 
In death, and that his toils would cease ; 
But see his mis'ry knows no bounds, 
Still with our blows his back resounds." 



BOOK IV. 

PBOLOGUE. 



To you, who 've graver things bespoke, 
This seems no better than a joke, 
And light for mere amusement made; 
Yet still we drive the scribbling trade, 
And from the pen our pleasure find, 
When we've no greater things to mind. 
Yet if you look with care intense, 
These tales your toil shall recompense ; 
Appearance is not always true, 
And thousands err by such a view. 
'Tis a choice spirit that has pried 
Where clean contrivance chose to hide : 
That this is not at random said, 
I shall produce upon this head 
A fable of an arch device, 
About the Weasel and the Mice. 

Fable I. the weazel and mice. 

A Weasel, worn with years, and lame, 
That could not overtake its game, 



Fable III. the fables of ph^edrus. 511 

Now with the nimble Mice to deal, 

Disguised herself with barley meal; 

Then negligent her limbs she spread 

In a sly nook, and lay for dead. 

A Mouse that thought she there might feed, 

Leapt up, and perish' d in the deed; 

A second in like manner died; 

A third, and sundry more beside : 

Then comes the brindled Mouse, a chap 

That oft escaped both snare and trap, 

And seeing how the trick was played, 

Thus to his crafty foe he said : — 

" So raay'st thou prosper day and night, 

As thou art not an errant bite." 

II. THE FOX AND THE GRAPES. 

An hungry Fox with fierce attack 
Sprang on a Vine, but tumbled back, 
Nor could attain the point in view, 
So near the sky the bunches grew. 
As he went off, "They're scurvy stuff," 
Says he, " and not half ripe enough— 
And I 've more rev'rence for my tripes 
Than to torment them with the gripes." 

For those this tale is very pat 
Who lessen what they can't come at. 
t 

III. THE HORSE AND BOAR. 

A Wild-Boar wallow' d in the flood, 
And troubled all the stream with mud, 
Just where a horse to drink repair' d — 
He therefore having war declared, 
Sought man's alliance for the fight, 
And bore upon his back the knight ; 
Who being skill' d his darts to throw, 
Despatched the Wild-Boar at a blow. 
Then to the steed the victor said, 
" I'm glad you came to me for aid, 
For taught how useful you can be, 
I've got at once a spoil and thee." 



512 THE FABLES OF PHiEDRUS. Book IY, 

On which the fields he made him quit, 
To feel the spur and champ the bit. 
Then he his sorrow thus express' d: 
" I needs must have my wrongs redress 'd, 
And making tyrant man the judge, 
Must all my life become a drudge." 

This tale the passionate may warn, 
To bear with any kind of scorn; 
And rather all complaint withdraw 
Than either go to war or law. 

IY. ESOP AND THE WILL. 

That one man sometimes is more shrewd 
Than a stupendous multitude, 
To after-times I shall rehearse 
In my concise familiar verse. 

A certain man on his decease, 
Left his three girls so much a-piece : 
The first was beautiful and frail, 
With eyes still hunting for the male; 
The second giv'n to spin and card, 
A country housewife working hard; 
The third but very ill to pass, 
A homely slut, that loved her glass. 
The dying man had left his wife 
Executrix, and for her life 
Sole tenant, if she should fulfil 
These strange provisos of his will : 
" That she should give th' estate in fee 
In equal portions to the three; 
But in such sort, that this bequest 
Should not be holden or possess'd ; 
Then soon as they should be bereav'n 
Of all the substance that was giv'n, 
They must for their good mother's ease 
Make up an hundred sesterces." 
This spread through Athens in a trice; 
The prudent widow takes advice. 
But not a lawyer could unfold 
How they should neither have nor hold 



Fable IV. the fables of ph^deus. 513 

The very things that they were left. 
^Besides, when once they were bereft, 
How they from nothing should confer 
The money that was due to her. 

When a long time was spent in vain, 
And no one could the will explain, 
She left the counsellors unfeed, 
And thus of her own self decreed : 
The minstrels, trinkets, plate, and dress, 
She gave the Lady to possess. 
Then Mrs. Notable she stocks 
With all the fields, the kine and flocks : 
The workmen, farm, with a supply 
Of all the tools of husbandry. 
Last, to the Guzzler she consigns 
The cellar stored with good old wines, 
A handsome house to see a friend, 
With pleasant gardens at the end. 
Thus as she strove th' affair to close, 
By giving each the things they chose, 
And those that knew them every one 
Highly applauded what was done; 
Esop arose, and thus address' d 
The crowd that to his presence press'd : 
" O that the dead could yet perceive! 
How would the prudent father grieve, 
That all th' Athenians had not skill 
Enough to understand his will ! 
Then at their joint request he solved 
That error, which had all involved. 
u The gardens, house, and wine vaults too. 
Give to the spinster as her due ; 
The clothes, the jewels, and such ware, 
Be all the tippling lady's share ; 
The fields, the barns, and flocks of sheep, 
Give the gay courtesan to keep. 
Not one will bear the very touch 
Of things that thwart their tastes so much ; 
The slut to fill her cellar straight 
Her wardrobe will evacuate ; 

2 L 



514 THE FABLES OF PH^EDRUS. Book IV. 

The lady soon 'will sell her farms, 
For garments to set off her charms ; 
But she that loves the flocks and kine 
Will alienate her stores of wine, 
Her rustic genius to employ. 
Thus none their portions shall enjoy, 
And from the money each has made 
Their mother shall be duly paid." 

Thus one man by his wit disclosed 
The point that had so many posed. 

V. THE BATTLE OF THE MICE AND WEASELS. 

The routed Mice upon a day 
JFled from the Weasels in array; 
But in the hurry of the flight, 
What with their weakness and their fright, 
Each scarce could get into his cave : 
Howe'er, at last their lives they save. 
But their commanders (who had tied 
Horns to their heads in martial pride, 
Which as a signal they design' d 
For non-commission' d mice to mind) 
Stick in the entrance as they go, 
And there are taken by the foe, 
Who, greedy of the victim, gluts 
With mouse-flesh his ungodly guts. 
Each great and national distress 
Must chiefly mighty men oppress ; 
While folks subordinate and poor 
Are by their littleness secure. 

VI. PH^EDRUS TO THE CAVILLERS. 

Thou. that against my tales inveigh'st, 
As much too pleasant for thy taste ; 
Egregious critic, cease to scoff, 
While for a time I play you off, 
And strive to soothe your puny rage. 
As Esop comes upon the stage, 



Fable VII. THE FABLES OF PHiEDRUS. 515 

And dress'd entirely new in Rome, 

Thus enters with the tragic plume. — 

" O that the fair Thessalian pine 

Had never felt the wrath divine, 

And fearless of the axe's wound. 

Had still the Pelian mountain crown' d ! 

That Argus by Palladian aid 

Had ne'er the advent 'rous vessel made ; 

In which at first, without dismay, 

Death's bold professors won their way, 

In which th' inhospitable main 

Was first laid open for the bane 

Of Grecians and barbarians too. 

Which made the proud iEetas rue, 

And whence Medea's crimes to nought 

The house and reign of Pelias brought. 

She — while in various forms she tries 

Her furious spirit to disguise, 

At one place in her flight bestow' d 

Her brother's limbs upon the road ; 

And at another could betray 

The daughters their own sire to slay." 

How think you now ? — What arrant trash ! 
And our assertions much too rash ! — 
Since prior to th' iEgean fleet 
Did Minos piracy defeat, 
And made adventures on the sea. 
How then shall you and I agree ? 
Since, stern as Cato's self, you hate 
All tales alike, both small and great. 

Plague not too much the man of parts ; 
For he that does it surely smarts. — 

This threat is to the fools, that squeam 
At every thing of good esteem ; 
And that they may to taste pretend, 
Ev'n heaven itself will discommend. 

VII. THE VIPER AXD THE FILE. 

He that a greater biter bites, 
His folly on himself requites, 

2 l 2 



516 THE FABLES OF PH^EDRUS. Book IV. 

As we shall manifest forthwith. — 

There was a hovel of a smith, 
Where a poor Viper chanced to steal, 
And being greedy of a meal, 
When she had seized upon a file, 
Was answer'd in this rugged style : 
« Why do you think, O stupid snake ! 
On me your usual meal to make, 
Who've sharper teeth than thine by far, 
And can corrode an iron bar ?" 

VIII. THE FOX AND THE GOAT. 

A crafty knave will make escape, 
When once he gets into a scrape, 
Still meditating self-defence, 
At any other man's expense. 

A Fox by some disaster fell 
Into a deep and fenced well : 
A thirsty Goat came down in haste, 
And ask'd about the water's taste, 
If it was plentiful and sweet ? 
At which the Fox, in rank deceit, 
" So great the solace of the run, 
I thought I never should have done. 
Be quick, my friend, your sorrows drown," 
This said, the silly Goat comes down. 
The subtle Fox herself avails, 
And by his horns the mound she scales, 
And leaves the Goat in all the mire, 
To gratify his heart's desire. 

IX. THE TWO BAGS. 

Great Jove, in his paternal care, 
Has giv'n a man two Bags to bear ; 
That which his own default contains 
Behind his back unseen remains ; 
But that which others' vice attests 
Swags full in view before our breasts. 

Hence we're inevitably blind, 
Relating to the Bag behind ; 



Fable XI. the fables of ph^edrus. 517 

But when our neighbours misdemean, 
Our censures are exceeding keen. 

X. THE SACRILEGIOUS THIEF. 

A villain to Jove's altar came 
To light his candle in the flame, 
And robb'd the god in dead of night, 
By his own consecrated light : 
Then thus an awful voice was sent, 
As with the sacrilege he went : 
" Though all this gold and silver plate 
As gifts of evil men I hate ; 
And their removal from the fane 
Can cause the Deity no pain ; 
Yet, caitiff, at th' appointed time, 
Thy life shall answer for thy crime. 
But, for the future, lest this blaze, 
At which the pious pray and praise, 
Should guide the wicked, I decree 
That no such intercourse there be." 
Hence to this day all men decline 
To light their candle at the shrine ; 
Nor from a candle e'er presume 
The holy light to re-illume. 

How many things are here contain' d, 
By him alone can be explain' d 
Who could this useful tale invent. 
In the first place, herein is meant, 
That they are offcen most your foes 
"Who from your fost'ring hand arose. 
Next, that the harden' d villain's fate 
Is not from wrath precipitate, 
But rather at a destined hour. 
Lastly, we 're charg'd with all our pow'r, 
To keep ourselves, by care intense, 
From all connexions with offence. 

XI. HERCULES AND PLUTUS. 

Wealth by the brave is justly scorn' d, 
Since men are from the truth suborn' d, 



51§ THE FABLES OF PH^DEUS. Book IV. 

And a full chest perverts their ways 
From giving or deserving praise. 

When Hercules, for matchless worth, 
Was taken up to heav'n from earth, 
As in their turns to all the crowd 
Of gratulating gods he bow'd, 
When Plutus, Fortune's son, he spies, 
He from his face averts his eyes. 
Jove ask'd the cause of this disgust : 
" I hate him, as he is unjust, 
To wicked men the most inclined, 
And grand corrupter of mankind." 

XII. THE HE-GOATS AND SHE-GOATS. 

When the She-Goats from Jove obtain' d 
A beard, th' indignant Males complain' d, 
That females by this near approach 
Would on their gravity encroach. 
" Suffer, my sapient friends," says he, 
" Their eminence in this degree, 
And bear their beard's most graceful length, 
As they can never have your strength." 

Warn'd by this little tale, agree 
With men in gen'ral form'd like thee, 
While you by virtue still exceed, 
And in the spirit take the lead. 

XIII. THE PILOT AND SAILORS. 

On hearing a poor man lament 
His worldly thoughts in discontent, 
Esop this tale began to write, 
For consolation and delight. 

The ship by furious tempests toss'd, 
The Mariners gave all for lost ; 
But midst their tears and dread, the scene 
Is changed at once, and all serene. 
The wind is fair, the vessel speeds, 
The Sailors' boist'rous joy exceeds : 
The Pilot then, by peril wise, 
Was prompted to philosophise. 



Fable XY, the fables of ph.edrus. 519 

" 'Tis right to put a due restraint 
On joy, and to retard complaint , 
Because alternate hope and fright 
Make up our lives of black and white." 

XIY. THE MAN AND THE ADDER. 

He, that malicious men relieves, 
His folly in a season grieves. 
A Man, against himself humane, 
Took up an Adder, that had lain 
And stiffen' d in the frosty air, 
And in his bosom placed with care, 
Where she with speed recov'ring breath, 
Her benefactor stung to death. 
Another Adder near the place, 
On asking why she was so base, 
"Was told, " 'Tis others to dissuade 
From giving wickedness their aid." 

XY. THE FOX AND THE DRAGON. 

A Fox was throwing up the soil, 
And while with his assiduous toil 
He burrow' d deep into the ground, 
A Dragon in his den he found, 
A-watching hidden treasure there, 
Whom seeing, Renard speaks him fair : 
" First, for your pardon I apply 
For breaking on your privacy; 
Then, as you very plainly see 
That gold is of no use to me, 
Your gentle leave let me obtain 
To ask you, what can be the gain 
Of all this care, and what the fruit, 
That you should not with sleep recruit 
Your spirits, but your life consume 
Thus in an everlasting gloom ?" 
" 'Tis not my profit here to stay," 
He cries ; " but I must Jove obey." 
" What ! will you therefore nothing take 
Yourself, nor others welcome make ?" 



THE FABLES OF PHiEDRUS. Book IV. 

'■ Ev'n so tlie fates decree." — u Then, shy 
Have patience, whilst I do aver 
That he who like affections knows 
Is born with all the gods his foes. 
Since to that place you needs must speed, 
Where ail your ancestors precede, 
Why in the blindness of your heart 
Do you torment your noble part ?" 

All this to thee do I indite, 
Thou grudging churl, thy heir's delight, 
Who robb'st the gods of incense due, 
Thyself of food and raiment too ; 
Who hear'st the harp with sullen mien, 
To whom the piper gives the spleen ; 
Who'rt full of heavy groans and sighs 
When in their price provisions rise ; 
Who with thy frauds heaven's patience tire 
To make thy heap a little higher, 
And, lest death thank thee, in thy will 
Hast tax'd the undertaker's bill. 

XYI. PH^DRUS, ON HIS FABLES. 

What certain envious hearts intend 
I very clearly comprehend, 
Let them dissemble e'er so much. — 
When they perceive the master's touch, 
And find 'tis likely to endure, 
They'll say 'tis Esop to be sure — 
But what appears of mean design, 
At any rate they'll vouch for mine. 
These in a word I would refute : 
Whether of great or no repute, 
What sprung from Esop's fertile thought 
This hand has to perfection brought ; 
But waiving things to our distaste, 
Let's to the destined period haste. 

XVII. THE SHIPWRECK OF SIMONIDES. 

A man, whose learned worth is known, 
Has always riches of his own. 



Fable XVII. the fables of ph^edrus. 521 

Simonides, who was the head 
Of lyric bards, yet wrote for bread, 
His circuit took through every town 
In Asia of the first renown, 
The praise of heroes to rehearse, 
Who gave him money for his verse. 
When by this trade much wealth was earn'd, 
Homewards by shaping he return' d 
(A Cean born, as some suppose) : 
On board he went, a tempest rose, 
Which shook th' old ship to that degree, 
She founder' d soon as out at sea. 
Some purses, some their jewels tie 
About them for a sure supply ; 
But one more curious, ask'd the seer, 
" Poet, have you got nothing here ?" 
" My all," says he, "is what I am." — 
On this some few for safety swam 
(For most o'erburden'd by their goods, 
Were smother' d in the whelming floods). 
The spoilers came, the wealth demand, 
And leave them naked on the strand. 
It happen' d for the shipwreck' d crew 
An ancient city was in view, 
By name Clazomena, in which 
There lived a scholar learn 'd and rich, 
Who often read, his cares to ease, 
The verses of Simonides, 
And was a vast admirer grown 
Of this great poet, though unknown. 
Him by his converse when he traced, 
He with much heartiness embraced, 
And soon equipp'd the bard anew, * 

With servants, clothes, and money too. 
The rest benevolence implored, 
With case depicted on a board : 
Which when Simonides espied, 
" I plainly told you all," he cried, 
" That all my wealth was in myself; 
As for your chattels and your pelf, 



522 THE FABLES OF PH^DRUS* Book IV. 

On which ye did so much depend, 
They're come to nothing in the end." 

XYIII. THE MOUNTAIN IN LABOR. 

The Mountain labor' d, groaning loud, 
On which a num'rous gaping crowd 
Of noodles came to see the sight, 
When, lo ! a mouse was brought to light ! 
This tale 's for men of swagg'ring cast, 
Whose threats, voluminous and vast, 
With all their verse and all their prose, 
Can make but little on 't, God knows. 

XIX. THE ANT AND THE FLY. 

An Ant and Fly had sharp dispute 
Which creature was of most repute ; 
When thus began the flaunting Fly : 
" Are you so laudible as I ? 
I, ere the sacrifice is carved, 
Precede the gods ; first come, first served— 
Before the altar take my place, 
And in all temples show my face, 
Whene'er I please I set me down 
Upon the head that wears a crown. 
I with impunity can taste 
The kiss of matrons fair and chaste, 
And pleasure without labor claim — 
Say, trollop, canst thou do the same ?" 
" The feasts of gods are glorious fare, 
No doubt, to those who 're welcome there ; 
But nQjb for such detested things. — 
You talk of matron's lips and kings ; 
I, who with wakeful care and pains 
Against the winter hoard my grains, 
Thee feeding upon ordure view. — 
The altars you frequent, 'tis true ; 
But still are driv'n away from thence, 
And elsewhere, as of much offence. 



.Fable XX the fables of ph,edeus. 523 

A life of toil you will not lead, 
And so have nothing when you need. 
Besides all this, you talk with pride 
Of things that modesty should hide. 
You plague me here, while days increase, 
But when the winter comes you cease. 
Me, when the cold thy life bereaves, 
A plenteous magazine receives. 
I think I need no more advance 
To cure you of your arrogance." 

The tenor of this tale infers 
Two very dhT'rent characters ; 
Of men self-praised and falsely vain, 
And men of real worth in grain. 

XX. THE ESCAPE OF SIMONIDES. 

Th' attention letters can engage, 

Ev'n from a base degen'rate age, 

I've shown before ; and now shall show 

Their lustre in another view, 

And tell a memorable tale, 

How much they can with heav'n prevail, 

Simonides, the very same 
We lately had a call to name, 
Agreed for such a sum to blaze 
A certain famous champion's praise. 
He therefore a retirement sought, 
But found the theme on which he wrote 
So scanty, he was forced to use 
Th' accustom' d license of the muse, 
And introduced and praise bestow' d 
On Leda's sons to raise his ode ; 
With these the rather making free, 
As heroes in the same degree. 
He warranted his work, and yet 
Could but one third of payment get. 
Upon demanding all the due, 
" Let them," says he, "pay t'other two, 
Who take two places in the song; 
But lest you think I do you wrong, 



524 THE FABLES OF PH^EDRUS. Book IY. 

And part in dudgeon — I invite 

Your company to sup this night, 

For then my friends and kin I see, 

'Mongst which I choose to reckon thee." 

Choused and chagrined, yet shunning blame, 

He promised, set the hour, and came; 

As fearful lest a favour spurn' d 

Should to an open breach be turn'd. 

The splendid banquet shone with plate, 

And preparations full of state 

Made the glad house with clamors roar — 

When on a sudden at the door 

Two youths, with sweat and dust besmear' d, 

Above the human form appear' d, 

And charged forthwith a little scout 

To bid Simonides come out, 

That 'twas his int'rest not to stay. — 

The slave, in trouble and dismay, 

Housed from his seat the feasting bard, 

Who scarce had stirr'd a single yard 

Before the room at once fell in, 

And crush'd the champion and his kin. 

No youths before the door are found. — 

The thing soon spread the country round ; 

And when each circumstance was weigh' d, 

They knew the gods that visit made, 

And saved the poet's life in lieu 

Of those two-thirds which yeb were due. 

EPILOGUE TO EUTYCHXTS. 

I yet have stock in hand to spare, 
And could write on — but will forbear — 
First, lest I tire a friend, whose state 
And avocations are so great : 
And then, if other pens should try 
This moral scheme as well as I, 
They may have something to pursue : — 
Yet if the spacious field we view, 
More men are wanting for the plan, 
Bather than matter for the man. 









THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. 525 

Now for that prize I make my plea 

You promised to my brevity. 

Keep your kind word ; for life, my friend, 

Is daily nearer to its end ; 

And I shall share your love the less 

The longer you your hand repress : 

The sooner you the boon insure, 

The more the tenure must endure ; 

And if I quick possession take, 

The greater profit must I make, 

While yet declining age subsists, 

A room for friendly aid exists. 

Anon with tasteless years grown weak, 

In vain benevolence will seek 

To do me good — when Death at hand 

Shall come and urge his last demand. 

'Tis folly, you'll be apt to say, 

A thousand times to beg and pray 

Of one with so much worth and sense, 

Whose gen'rous bounty is propense. 

If e'er a miscreant succeeds, 

By fair confession of his deeds, 

An innocent offender's case 

Is far more worthy of your grace. 

You for example sake begin, 

Then others to the lure you'll win, 

And in rotation more and more 

Will soon communicate their store. 

Consider in your mind how far 

At stake your word and honour are ; 

And let your closing the debate 

By what I may congratulate. 

I have been guilty of excess 

Beyond my thought in this address 

But 'tis not easy to refrain 

A spirit work'd up to disdain 

By wretches insolent and vile, 

With a clear conscience all the while. 

You'll ask me, sir, at whom I hint — 

In time they may appear in print. 



526 THE FABLES OF PHJEDRTJS. Book V. 

But give me leave to cite a phrase 

I met with in my boyish days. 

" 'Tis dangerous for the mean and low 

Too plain their grievances to show." 

This is advice I shall retain 

While life and sanity remain. 



BOOK V. 

PKOLOGUE, TO PAETICULO. 

"When I resolved my hand to stay 
For this, that others might have play, 
On reconsidering of my part 
I soon recanted in my heart : 
For if a rival should arise, 
How can he possibly devise 
The things that I have let alone, 
Since each man's fancy is his own, 
And likewise colouring of the piece ?"-— 
It was not therefore mere caprice, 
But strong reflection made me write : 
Wherefore since you in tales delight, 
Which I, in justice, after all, 
Not Esop's, but Esopian call; 
Since he invented but a few; 
I more, and some entirely new, 
Keeping indeed the ancient style, 
With fresh materials all the while. 
As at your leisure you peruse 
The fourth collection of my muse, 
That you may not be at a stand, 
A fifth shall shortly come to hand ; 
'Gainst which, if as against the rest, 
Malignant cavillers protest, 
Let them carp on, and make it plain 
They carp at what they can't attain. 
My fame's secure, since I can show 
How men of eminence like you, 



.Fable I. the fables of ph^dhus. 527 

My little book transcribe and quote, 

As like to live of classic note. 

It is th' ambition of my pen 

To win th' applause of learned men. 

I. Demetrius and Menander. 

If Esop's name at any time 
I bring into this measured rhyme, 
To whom I've paid whate'er I owe, 
Let all men by these presents know, 
I with th' old fabulist make free, 
To strengthen my authority. 
As certain sculptors of the age, 
The more attention to engage, 
And raise their price, the curious please, 
By forging of Praxiteles; 
Aiid in like manner they purloin 
A Myro to their silver coin. 
'Tis thus our fables we can smoke, 
As pictures for their age bespoke : 
For biting envy, in disgust 
To new improvements, favors rust ; 
But now a tale comes in of corpse, 
Which these assertions will enforce. 
Demetrius, who was justly call'd 
The tyrant, got himself install' d, 
And held o'er Athens impious sway. 
The crowd, as ever is the way, 
Came, eager rushing far and wide, 
And, " Fortunate event ! ' ' they cried. 
The nobles came, the throne address' d : 
The hand by which they were oppress' d 
They meekly kiss'd, with inward stings 
Of anguish for the face of things. 
The idlers also, with the tribe 
Of those who to themselves prescribe 
Their ease and pleasure, in the end 
Came sneaking, lest they should offend. 
Amongst this troop Menander hies, 
So famous for his comedies. 



528 THE FABLES OF PH.EDRUS. Book V. 

(Him, though he was not known by sight, 
The tyrant read with great delight, 
Struck with the genius of the bard.) 
In flowing robes bedaub' d with nard, 
And saunt'ring tread he came along, 
Whom, at the bottom of the throng, 
When Phalereus beheld, he said : 
" How dares that fribble show his head 
In this our presence ?" he was told — 
" It is Menander you behold." 
Then, changed at once from fierce to bland, 
He call'd, and took him by the hand. 

[II. THE THIEF AND THE TRAVELLERS. 

Two men equipp'd were on their way; 

One fearful ; one "without dismay, 

An able fencer. As they went, 

A robber came with black intent ; 

Demanding, upon pain of death, 

Their gold and silver in a breath. 

At which the man of spirit drew, 

And instantly disarm 'd and slew 

The Thief, his honor to maintain. 

Soon as the rogue was fairly slain, 

The tim'rous chap began to puff, 

And drew his sword, and stripp'd in buff — 

" Leave me alone with him ! stand back ! 

I'll teach him whom he should attack." 

Then he who fought, " I wish, my friend, 

But now you'd had such words to lend; 

I might have been confirm' d the more, 

Supposing truth to all you swore ; 

Then put your weapon in the sheath, 

And keep your tongue within your teeth ; 

Though you may play an actor's part 

On them who do not know your heart, 

I, who have seen this very day 

How lustily you ran away, 

Experience when one comes to blows 

How far your resolution goes." 



Fable TV. THE FABLES OP PHiEDRUS. 529 

This narrative to those I tell 
Who stand their ground when all is well ; 
But in the hour of pressing need 
Abash' d, most shamefully recede. 

III. THE BALD MAX AJSTD THE FLY. 

As on his head she chanced to sit, 
A Alan's bald pate a Gadfly bit; 
He, prompt to crush the little foe, 
Dealt on himself a grievous blow : 
At which the Fly. deriding said, . 
" You that would strike an insect dead 
For one slight sting, in wrath so strict, 
What punishment will you inflict 
Upon yourself, who was so blunt 
To do vourself this gross affront ?" — 
a O," says the party, "as for me, 
I with myself can soon agree. 
The spirit of th' intention's all; 
But thou, detested cannibal ! 
Blood-sucker ! to haye thee secured 
More would I gladly haye endured." 
What by this moral tale is meant 
Is — those who wrong not with intent 
Are venial; but to those that do 
Severity, I think, is due. 

I\ 7 . THE MAX AXD THE ASS. 

A certain Man, when he had made 
A sacrifice, for special aid 
To Hercules, and kifl'd a swine, 
Did for his Ass's share assign 
All the remainder of the corn; 
But he, rejecting it with scorn, 
Thus said : " I gladly would partake — 
But apprehend that life's at stake; 
For he you fatted up and fed 
With store of this, is stuck and dead.'' 
Struck with the import of this tale, 
I have succeeded to prevail 

2 M 



530 THE FABLES OF PHJEDRUS, Book V, 

Upon my passions, and abstain, 

From peril of immod'rate gain. 

But, you will say, those that have come 

Unjustly by a handsome sum, 

Upon the pillage still subsist — 

Why, if we reckon up the list, 

You'll find by far the major part 

Have been conducted in the cart : 

Temerity for some may do, 

But many more their rashness rue. 

V. THE BUFFOON AND COUNTRY-FELLOW. 

In ev'ry age, in each profession, 
Men err the most by prepossession ; 
But when the thing is clearly shown, 
Is fairly urged, and fully known, 
We soon applaud what we deride. 
And penitence succeeds to pride. 

A certain noble, on a day, 
Having a mind to show away, 
Invited by reward the mimes 
And play'rs and tumblers of the times, 
And built a large commodious stage 
For the choice spirits of the age : 
But, above all, amongst the rest 
There came a genius who profess' d 
To have a curious trick in store 
That never was perform'd before. 
Through all the town this soon got air ; 
And the whole house was like a fair ; 
But soon his entry as he made, 
Without a prompter or parade, 
'Twas all expectance and suspense. 
And silence gagg'd the audience. 
He, stooping down and looking big, 
So wondrous well took off a pig, 
All swore 'twas serious, and no joke, 
For that, or underneath his cloak 
He had concealed some grunting elf ? 
Or was a real hog himself* 



Fable V. the fables of peledrus. 531 

A search was made — no pig was found — 

With thund ring claps the seats resound, 

And pit, and box, and galTries roar 

With — " rare ! bravo !" and " encore." 

Old Roger Grouse, a country clown, 

Who yet knew something of the town, 

Beheld the mimic of his whim, 

And on the morrow challenged him ; 

Declaring to each beau and belle 

That he this grunter would excel. 

The morrow came — the crowd was greater—* 

But prejudice and rank ill-nature 

Usurp 'd the minds of men and wenches, 

Who came to hiss and break the benches. 

The mimic took his usual station, 

And squeak' d with general approbation ; 

Again " Encore ! encore I" they cry — 

" 'Tis quite the thing, 'tis very high." 

Old Grouse conceal' d, amidst this racket, 

A real pig beneath his jacket — 

Then forth he came, and with his nail 

He pinch' d the urchin by the tail. 

The tortured pig, from out his throat, 

Produced the genuine nat'ral note. 

All bellow' d out 'twas very sad ! 

Sure never stuff was half so bad. 

" That like a pig !" each cried in scoff; 

"Pshaw! nonsense! blockhead! off! off! off!" 

The mimic was extolTd, and Grouse 

Was hiss'd, and catcall'd from the house. 

" Soft ye, a word before I go," 

Quoth honest Hodge ; and stooping low, 

Produced the pig, and thus aloud 

Bespoke the stupid partial crowd : 

" Behold, and learn from this poor cratur, 

How much you critics know of natur!" 

TO PARTICULO. 

As yet my muse is not to seek, 
But can from fresh materials speak ; 

2 m 2 



532 THE FABLES OF PH^EDRUS. Book V. 

And our poetic fountain springs 

With rich variety of things. 

But you're for sallies short and sweet ; 

Long tales their purposes defeat. 

Wherefore, thou worthiest, best of men, 

Particulo, for whom my pen 

Immortal honour will insure, 

Long as a rev'rence shall endure 

For Boman learning — if this strain 

Cannot your approbation gain, 

Yet, yet my brevity admire, 

Which may the more to praise aspire, 

The more our poets now-a-days 

Are tedious in their lifeless lays. 

VI. THE TWO EALD MEN. 

As on his way a Bald-pate went, 
He found a comb by accident ; 
Another, with a head as bare, 
Pursued, and hollow 'd for a share. 
The first produced the prize, and cried, 
" Good Providence was on our side ; 
But by the strange caprice of Fate, 
We 're to no purpose fortunate ; 
And, as the proverb says, have found 
A hobnail, for a hundred pound." 

They by this tale may be relieved 
Whose sanguine hopes have been deceived. 

VII. PRINCE THE PIPER. 

A little, friv'lous, abject mind, 

Pleased with the rabble, puff'd with wind, 

When once, as fast as pride presumes, 

Itself with vanity it plumes, 

Is by fond lightness brought with ease 

To any ridicule you please. 

One Prince, a piper to the play, 
Was rather noted in his way, 
As call'd upon to show his art, 
Whene'er Bathyilus did his part. 



Fable VII. the fables of ph^edrus. 533 

He being at a certain fair, 

(I do not well remember where,) 

While they pull'd clown the booth in haste, 

Not taking heed, his leg displaced, 

He from the scaffold fell so hard — 

(Would he his pipes had rather marr'd ! 

Though they, poor fellow ! were to him 

As dear almost as life and limb). 

Borne by the kind officious crowd, 

Home he 's conducted, groaning loud. 

Some months elapsed before he found 

Himself recover' d of his wound: 

Meantime, according to their way, 

The droll frequenters of the play 

Had a great miss of him, whose touch 

The dancers' spirits raised so much. 

A certain man of high renown 

Was just preparing for the town 

Some games the mob to entertain, 

When Prince began to walk again; 

Whom, what with bribes and pray'rs, his grace 

Prevail' d upon to show his face 

In this performance, by all means — 

And while he waits behind the scenes, 

A rumour through the house is spread, 

By certain, that "the piper's dead." 

Others cried out, " The man is here, 

And will immediately appear." 

The curtain draws, the lightnings flash, 

The gods speak out their usual trash. 

An ode, not to the Piper known, 

Was to the chorus leader shown, 

Y^hich he was order' d to repeat, 

And which was closed with this conceit — 

" Receive with joy, O loyal Home, 

Thy Prince just rescued from his tomb." 

They all at once stand up and clap, 

At which my most facetious chap 

Kisses his hand, and scrapes and bows 

To his good patrons in the house. 



534 THE FABLES OF PH^EDRUS. Book V. 

First the equestrian order smoke 

The fool's mistake, and high in joke, 

Command the song to be encored ; 

Which ended, flat upon the board 

The Piper falls, the knights acclaim ; 

The people think that Prince's aim 

Is for a crown of bays at least. 

Now all the seats perceived the jest, 

And with his bandage white as snow, 

White frock, white pumps, a perfect beauty 

Proud of the feats he had achieved, 

And these high honours he received, 

With one unanimous huzza, 

Poor Prince was kick'd out of the play. 

VIII. OPPORTUNITY. 

Paid, naked, of a human shape, 

With fleet wings ready to escape, 

Upon a razor's edge his toes, 

And lock that on his forehead grows — 

Him hold, when seized, for goodness' sake, 

For Jove himself cannot retake 

The fugitive when once he's gone. 

The picture that we here have drawn 

Is Opportunity so brief. — 

The ancients, in a bas-relief, 
Thus made an effigy of Time, 
That every one might use their prime ; 
Nor e'er impede, by dull delay, 
Th' effectual business of to-day. 

IX. THE BULL AND THE CALF. 

A Bull was struggling to secure 

His passage at a narrow door, 

And scarce could reach the rack of hay, 

His horns so much were in his way. 

A Calf officious, fain would show 

How he might twist himself and go. 



Eable X. the fables of ph^edrus. 535 

a Hold thou thy prate ; all this," says he, 
" Ere thou wert calved was known to me." 

He, that a wiser man by half 
Would teach, may think himself this Calf 

X. THE OLD DOG AND THE HUNTSMAN, 

A Dog, that time and often tried, 

His master always satisfied \ 

And whensoever he assail' d, 

Against the forest-beasts prevail' d 

Both by activity and strength, 

Through years began to flag at length. 

One day, when hounded at a boar, 

His ear he seized, as heretofore ; 

But with his teeth, decay' d and old, 

Could not succeed to keep his hold. 

At which the huntsman, much concern' d ? 

The vet 'ran huff'd, who thus return' d : 

" My resolution and my aim, 

Though not my strength, are still the same ; 

For what I am if I am chid, 

Praise what I was, and what I did." 

Philetus, you the drift perceive 
Of this, with which I take my leave. 



THE END, 



PRINTED BY HARRISON AND SONS, 

LONDON GAZETTE OFFICE, ST. MARTIN'S LANE, 

AND 

ORCHARD STREET, WESTMINSTER. 



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